The days were great..We ranged around cared for by good humans on our edgewood ground, a mighty flock our ages did range..Up to forty years; indeed some gained.' Our nights were restfull, we passed each test..' ancient bloodline and
Of the best.' Then strangers came observing ing cold.' Then many more trucks
And cars untold, we were seperated from
The humans who cared, herded un-feelingly to where straw walls were.' Until
In the dark one night loud bangs.!!! Flames against the black, and with burning pain; we ran into the walls, laid low in vain
We smelled of death, those who survived all night
In agony, bloodstained' then came the last sunrise.' The
Bad humans walked in with sticks that spat
Again that fire..We lay helpless targets as
They slaked their desires, yet the pain is gone now we are with our Creator.' Away
Are the tall hat ones..yet fate is the endless trail they must ever walk, these are the bad of humanity.' At no evil will they baulk.'
straight low above,
formation of war
Black clouds dump ...love !
Is then the crown too heavy that I wear?
It is not made of gold or silver but of lead and mental garbage;
yet it is bright
it flaunts some embedded gems around it,
they represent some good things that have happened throughout my life.
I, the wearer, can't see the shines that it reflects
far flashings alike those of a lighthouse.
My brain seems to beat against the solid rim.
The Crown can´t hold in this steel skull of mine;
the sort that needs no helmet in the most fright battering fight.
And now this king has become old,
an antique buried into antiquities
so with yet a broken throne.
The "great gods" (or the people who shared and to whom I gave my youth),
mock that captive king.
Now all my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.
But this Old King
Though bodily unharmed, it uttered cries,
as some king´s ghost in supernatural distress.
leaving drifted the relics of old time.
A heavy, leaden winter sky
Oppressive, grey as slate.
Biting cold, stinging cheeks
As my weary way, I make.
Autumn had paid a call,
All the leaves, now litter.
Still though, it won't be long
Till all is snow, and glitter.
Stopped for a moment
Took the time
to write some verse
Without revising I
send out this work
Surely you realize that poetry can change
life's leaden metal into gold
Like a silent symphony
it can grab
your heart
Like a musical concert
it blasts the senses with love
Fly with poetry!
Feel the transformation!
My feet so heavy
My arms so heavy
My thoughts so heavy
My eyelids heavy levees
So no more tears.
Lying in bed
With a gun to my head
But I can't pull the trigger
Because my fingers are lead.
No use in crying
No matter what I do
I keep living; I keep dying
I am a wasp in amber-- merely existing
But I will forever
I can't breathe
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