There was too much ado about nothing,
A nothing that was poured something --
Still ended up as if there was nothing,
At least we tried, maybe that's something.
Don John stirred too much ado about nothing,
Claudio fought hard to mean something --
Tears under olive trees poured to nothing,
At least they cried, maybe it's something.
Now there is no ado about anything,
Your nothing became my something --
Still ended up into my loathing,
At least I tried? I tried for nothing.
Oh how I loathe, that I ended up with nothing.
What covid has proved to me,
Is that too many rights could be?
What set covid free,
To do harm to you and me.
Too many rights for me,
Could make me a danger to thee,
When there is a time for me,
To think of how to save thee,
Without giving up rights given to me,
By thee.
Too many rights for you and me,
Makes living long enough to be free,
Difficult for those under three,
When the need to see,
Something bigger than just you and me,
Is the only thing that will save thee,
And give hope for more than just me.
The only right that you and me,
Should agree is more than just for you and me
That should stay with you and me,
Regardless of what the situation might be,
Is the right to be
Treated by the powers that be,
In a way that gives hope to you and me,
That what they put on the screen for you and me,
Will not shorten life for you and me,
Is what will leave us free,
To believe they know what rights will not keep us free,
So, when asserting our rights, we will not be too free.
People Proved To Be Power Monger
Some people proved to be a power monger,
They want to become stronger and stronger,
Prance and prance,
And ego enhance,
While wishing it will last longer and longer.
Jim Horn
Life Proved Too Much
A culmination of factors; like leaves gathered
Mixed with acorns in autumns raked passion
Pulled callously along like wet hair straining
Through an old comb on rain drenched mornings
Hollowed collapsed buildings fall on cold snow
No longer loom as towers of strength
Against their wishes they become construction gone
Under afternoons gray cumulus cloud covers
Unable to continue on, of their own accord
To hold up under these conditions, stress
Under such pressures brought on by age
Structures tend to fall
All at once they beg the earth to take them
Separated, far from their birth as buildings
From the encumbrances of holding strong
Life proved too much to continue on
until one is lost in love, love can't be proved
no matter what we do
we are the best two
some we' are blue
so whats new
we always get thur
and pass all test
we
prove we are the best
All she wanted to do was to prove her point.
What goes up must come down –
She packed climbing gear and grabbed her ballpoint.
It was time for the dauntless doubter’s meltdown!
Standing at the bottom of a mountain,
She looked up to the highest point.
Hoping it would not rain,
She headed for the first checkpoint.
Then, stopped to rest and write some poetry.
About life from her viewpoint –
She heard the voice of the Almighty.
And wrote heavenly thoughts He did appoint.
She started climbing again, aches in every joint.
Past her breakpoint and the midpoint to the endpoint.
She dropped her pen; it bounced down the mountain.
Over rocks, nooks, and crannies…proving her point.
© January 18, 2011
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