The Bull and the Fighter
The sun has become a burden
The way it rises and sets
Rises and sets
And rises and sets
Like the timepiece from my father
From his father
And his father
Like the pen from uncle joe
With the bull and the fighter
You tip to one end and the bull charges forward
Tip back and he's back again
Oh, how I drew such wondrous things with that pen!
Mountains, never ending
Fountains, never drying
Days, never dying
I drew till my hands bled
Tightly gripping my favorite pen
And when the ink finally dried
And the pen had no use
I kept it
Just to tip the bull back and forth
Again and again
The bull never tired
The fighter never aged
It taught me more about life
Than life ever would
And taught me more about death
Than death ever could.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
