Allan Granstrom Poet Narrative

Toy Boat In the Fountains

Out of the good
the bad emerges.
The cold wind bites.
The ocean surges.
Waves appearing
as big as mountains.
Like a toy boat
in the fountains.
Your miles from land
and it doesn't look good.
So you say a prayer to God
that's understood.
You've been here before
when all your hope died.
The promises were made.
I'm gonna change, you lied.
This time I really mean it
you convince yourself.
On your knees knowing it's over.
Again you plead for his help.
Please Lord, if I make it this time
no more lies will I be caught in.
But then the sun comes out
and the promises are forgotten.

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Cesar Cantu May 17, 2009 at 9:44 PM Ouch, this one strikes some nerves in everyone I guess, or at least in some persons; good reflection; in the end, how significant is a promise for us; is it significant because it is made to divinity or behind the name of God we hide our tatooed skin? and if we do not accomplish what was promised, what implications does it have? yes, it is hard to keep a promise to ourselves and to windy cosmos. Thanks for the experience!!!=)