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Ryan Akers Poem
Everyone can be a critic.
Few can take criticism.
I’ve seen the results of youthful play
The paths half-buried of sandy ethics
The holes and pitfalls of reliance
Mounds of dirt clods and chocolate chips
Success tastes so fine –
Like a drink of ice cold water
On the last lap of decision
‘Cause we are all infinite genius
We know what we know –
Because we intended to be ominous
We have all the answers –
For our same redundant questions
So don’t point your finger at me
Waiting for a solution
To your petty-proud, little-lot life
My knowledge will pierce your pupils
Blister your lips
Bruise your belly
Crush your pride
I am a steel-toed construction boot
You are an insect
Don’t play checkers on my chess board
It’s a risk taken with a master madman
With a proven method of interpreting your ideas
Full intentions of beating you
At your own game
In your own home
Give me a reason to frown upside down.
Copyright © Ryan Akers | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Ryan Akers Poem
I say I don’t care
Running fingers through my hair
Stopping in the corner to stare
Ignoring any sign to beware
No country for old men
No state for young love beginning again
No postage stamp for me to send
Nothing special except hoping to mend
Bruised soul, broken heart
Preparing myself for a new place to depart
Living again somewhere far apart
From an existence far beyond hopes of a start
Sorry to say, my emotions I must obey
Invigorated by a sense that resounds betray
Yet I lift my chin and face the sunny day
Waiting for the sorrow to pass away
Yes I must forge the words that I care
This is not the evidence of a dare
Not the account of the clothes I wear
Just heart pounding and mind glare
You were all that mattered
Forgotten footsteps of a baby’s patter
Lost promises of a love canvas’ torn tatter
As I watch the paint cry in a somber splatter
Copyright © Ryan Akers | Year Posted 2025
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