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Issued paper fibers mirror those of the straw bale,
The waters of the great canal through the morning sail.

In spite Venezia was tied, the chairlift was jostling,
Twisting its way through the small calli in haze whiting. 

It's safe to say man has a qualm, despite his skin tone,
The Earth spins around, put your location out of zone.

Informal suburbs have been overrun by strange walls,
The laws of the rulers, custom breeds devotion calls.

It's amazing how people fall for lowering strife,
Then residents achieve bad habits and lose their life. 

Identity loss roots our quiet closed eyes, curdle,
Teams were the source of hatred for every step hurdle.

Its clogged and stuffed bowel burst, the young boy died of filth,
They stole his liver, kidneys, and heart, killing his health.

Idle boy's heart beats in a guest's chest; mom's tear-soaked veil,
The boy is dead or lives couched in flesh tombs as was frail.

Its tearful child asks his dad, "where does sorrow stem from?"
The sorrow you get is the kid of joy, if not some.

It's not just the sun's rays that draw forth the elixir,
The Oceans create clouds and those clouds from storms austere.

Isn't the fragrance that lures butterflies, but the same scent,
The flower that would a lover pick for his content?  

It's not the light shining on your flesh in the mirror,
The light chases the reverse side's shadow to shiver.

It's when you're glad, know that it cost others happiness,
That you're enthralled recall it's someone else's sadness.

Individualism fails in vain, that's a grouse word,
This may never know how your fault brings oddly well-augured.

It opens endless doors to be tough, profound, and strong,
Though no book or teacher can teach you a complete prong.


2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney

1ST Place Contest Winner


Written August 30, 2022

Dot Your I's And Cross Your T's Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Hilo Poet

Verified and checked with HMS.COM, with 13 syllables in each line.
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