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Poem

I used to think that
The world was black and white,
Wrong and right so clear,
Clear vision of who was friend
And foe, dressed in deception,
They were, interchanging, breaking
But then growing up again.

I used to think that
My plot was as any other,
Other than that of the step
Sisters unhappy ending, no, my
Ending would be beautiful, but
No, my end came in the middle,
Mid-sentence before the page
Paused to drink some tea.

I used to think that
Summer and winter never met,
Yet maybe there is still a chance
For change before all leaves
Fall upon the lifeless ground,
And yet, should sweet spring
Be left out in the cold?

I used to think that
Hunger was for meal times,
Between times, but often times
Time changed all of that
So that kind was a lie
That lay forgotten underneath
Creeping, still dark waters.

I used to think that
My thoughts saved me from
Falling into the crevice that
Quickly appeared every time I
Closed my eyes, but no, my
Mental power weakly falls with
Words spoken softly in the dark.

I used to think that
Ashes were the end, lifelessly
Lying underfoot; yet green can
Come from the grey nothingness,
New life peeking into power,
After patiently waiting in warmth.

I used to think that
A watches’ pieces placed worth,
Yet not the past, but the
Beautiful Now, knowing pure hope
Is heaven’s holy gift, given
Generously to the fallen leaves.
And so, I now know, not
Think, that I am not the
Pieces of my submerging past.

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