Thursday, November 24, 2011

Lessons

A child strutted down a gray gravel lane

That laid between a rose garden fenced frame

The young boy ran his fingers thru the brush

Filling the air with a strong floral musk

Suddenly, he retracted his hand with a wince

When it snagged some thorns on the rose garden fence

He cried aloud as his fingers ran red

The kind of yelp his mother did dread

So she descended from the house which they lived

To find her young son waist-deep in roses

She pucked him from the garden with care

& inquired in the first place, why he was in there

He replied to his mother, he wanted it dead

To kill the rose that had made him to bled

She cleared her throat, smiled, then said,

“My dearest child, do not be misled. Killing the rose won’t cure your bloodshed.”

This made the boy cry even harder it seemed

He already killed the rose in a vengeful fury

His mother smoothed the tears from his cheeks

Cleared her throat & again began to speak,

“It’s ok to feel bad. It’s all apart of life. After all, what is happiness if not in contrast to strife?”

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Crutch

There was an Old Man who was
labeled a scrooge.
One day he found his pride to be
a bit bruised.
Because for years the Old Man had walked
with a cane,
Always pointing his finger at
someone to blame.
When on this day he turned a corner
& fell,
To find without the cane, he could walk
Just as well!

Friday, November 4, 2011

A Shadow

An inseparable companion
Caused by the interception of light
A comparative darkness
That is crystal clear in hindsight
Like the soul dictates a person
A shadow’s bed is made
From dawn to dusk, its fate is thrust
into a merciless grave
For a shadow is dependent
On the laws of light
& It’s movement is restricted
To it’s suburbanite.
Its fleeting fate is understood
& yet it goes ignored
I wonder if the shadow could
End the misery it endures
Because as the day persists
Shadows continuously change
This lack of self must be felt
with a tremendous sense of pain
So as the shadow dwindles down
To the object it draws near
The entity becomes unbound
As night reclaims the hemisphere
Therefore, a life is worth the strife
The truth shall be unveiled
A shadow’s love for the night
Is one that will always prevail