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Owen Tobias Poem
Outside something creeps
In the rustling of the grass
And the crackling of the bushes
The moon licks its thumb
And turns the page
Of the next book
Humans can be so dull, you know?
Light spills into the cracks
Of the sidewalks the puddles
Shrivel up in the undying sun
And I am left with
Sunburnt trees
With their dying leaves
The struggle of making sense
To a dying people
Filled with cement
Too thick to cut across with
Sharp ideals
Being vague is only an option
Who else is left to save them
Copyright © Owen Tobias | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Owen Tobias Poem
My head likes to second guess
Argue with the gut feeling
Deny the feeling of wings
Spread out and high
Fly out to the brave
To new souls that beckon
Here, here
Where grass is always greener
Pain is not as purple as blood and
Joy is more than a yellowed sunshine
A cold warmth
Here, here, they say
Where grass is always greener
Where the empty heads are full
Of stories and rain
That never cease or never
Stop to think about what
Would happen if the wings
Took a leap forward and carried
Me out to the sea--
Miles and miles and miles to go
Bright blue ground and dark green sky
Ready to fly up, up, up
Into the sun
Shatter and melt and explode into
Five million pieces
One for each one of the people
Whose head always second guessed
The gut reaction,
Of their souls
Copyright © Owen Tobias | Year Posted 2016
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