Below is the poem entitled Robbie which was written by poet
William J. Jr.
Atfield. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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William J. Jr.
William J. Jr. Atfield
Like a snail, out of sea, stuck to Mother Earth.
Never able to see, never able to fly it’s girth
since a time in youth and at a place
where currents carried away Hope, created space
between, making it difficult for her to get by,
and she did slip, into the corner of my eye
carrying the heavy weight of her world,
her house, her walls, as life unfurled.
All this weight, she carries upon her, oh so fragile back
as she dreamt her butterfly dreams, watching them crack
at the seams, still a caterpillar, climbing into this Tree,
- never a chrysalis or pupa, never a butterfly to be free -
onto branches, of this long time, winter Tree, larger pieces of me
you see, as she tries to spin her cocoon, hang it like ringing chimes,
to dangle precariously, blown by the winds of fate and her troubled times
as she be faced with gusts that spin her around this crumbling old soul
never to realize her dream, hanging back is all she will come know,
from this entity, not hanging onto everything you want to do
as you come tumbling down, striking the ground, anew,
in the silence of your painful sound, never to be heard
as you search, longingly, for the right word
but know not to be metamorphosized or to reach the skies.
Be your butterfly self, be set free, be beautiful in this life
and live it !, so you may see, - yet may never be free from strife –
that you are not left on the ground, beneath your dreams, shattered.
Stand tall my Dear, know that all may not lie there, scattered
to the four winds, nor will they come to die there, a little or a lot.
You may never know why ?, and I may never know what you have got
but life goes on even if it be, in the ashes of your dreams.
You offered me your beauty, your love, your passion it seems.
Your compassion I knew, all, I walked past, hearing their cries
as I looked down into hell, up into heavenly skies, but seldom into your eyes,
to look into the depths of your soul, you, come to know.
For I feared to look, I feared to see what surely did show.
I look past much in life, this I know as I watch you go
away from all you dream, a dream that can never be,
your dream, your desire, your passion to possess me.
And so, this misty veil, of your desire and dream dissipate,
they fade away as you slowly let go and accept fate.
Passion slowly fades, dreams and desires wane,
and surly will be accompanied, by a little pain.
An end will come, this is life and is inevitable,
what lingers on, is best, is what is memorable.
As I watch, more than a few of my yesterday’s
creep in and get in the way of my todays,
I wonder about the barricades, waging wars, erecting walls
against all of my beautiful tomorrows and shadowed halls ?
B. J. “A” 2