Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.144.149.217

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

In the desert of my compassion
holds two tender seeds growing fervently;
both longing for the blueness of my tears,
which possess a certain kind of purity.

---who's teaching whom
our Tomorrows yet-in-bloom--

Teach me of your ways, Little Ones,
for I could use some reassuring.
Am I human still? Or is there still more to unlearn?
A bit of wisdom lost is what I'm inferring.

"What use is spelling to me?
Will it provide food for my family?"
These were the words of a Midnight Child
still awaiting the dawn of humanity's consideration.

"What use is your prejudice;
I may be small, but I have more than enough love,
for the both of us."
These were the words of a Snowy Child
paradoxically melting your heart with his profundity

(because Adults could still use some education)

Teach me how to fish,
if it be your wish to educate.
How to hunt and how to gather,
how to build a shelter that won't break easily ...
... but most importantly      (and this is no frivolity)
teach me how to LOVE beyond my capability,
for you know we don't get enough of it currently.

How to care and how to give,
despite the whims of Life's Circumstance.
Knowing this, perhaps I can live      (or at least I can try)
To live a L-I-F-E, that's worthy of her letters, before I die.

Little children don't know the difference
between ebony and ivory.
Because smiles are a universal sentence;
to them it's all harmony!

Something's not right here -
I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.
We are all People:
Some with hungry minds, some with hungry mouths.
Even children know this to be true.
Do I need to spell it out?



Using Image 4 ...


Originally written for Silent's contest, but was switched one for a different poem based off a different image. Thanks for the double whammy of inspiration, my friend!

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required