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Mark Anthony Netto Poem
I, was slowly passing all open farms on rail;
The chugging kept me hugging, the little one so pale,
Her cough was loud, her cold was still a mess,while in my quest did tried my
best to hide the pain, that held her chest;
Alone, a man was standing, with smells of wickedness, his blood was cold,
his tone was soar with arms and limbs that dealt, a mighty blow;
For there he was a traveling tramp forcing his might on me;
A single hand that worked for me pulled out a single strand,he then,grabbed me by the hand;
the little child her cry was loud, my world was simply fouled, hapless in may stance,watched the man flash his hand & slap by the hand.
He stole my gold, even though I being so bold;
Cried aloud, I told the crowd to catch him by his brow but, no one knew how things would go and let him pass without a no;
My world was down and in my frown, I tried to hide my plight;
For, all I done was see my kin nestle her way to the nearby inn.
While aid would come and so be done our journey back in days within;
Relief it was in disbelief that lit my heart a part, for there it came in the form of a native who was totally disbelieved. On hearing my cry he offered his tie to help my little one fly !
Copyright © Mark Anthony Netto | Year Posted 2013
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Mark Anthony Netto Poem
Lived long enough to know this world;
Cherished it all in moments of joy,
Sang, danced and made merry,until dawns descend;
Woke to feel the morning splurge -then fall asleep in ecstasy.
Selfish means took over me, I swore by means, no excuse.
Walking this earth on earthen feet, so the number be deceit;
Different paths I walked this along,learnt a lot from nook and toil,
battered by the storm with with freight;
Praise God for thy almighty light.
Goodbye to you my precious love, take thy hand in pity sight;
Leave no stone for earth to bear;
Fellow folks look upright, and walk.
Shed no tear for earth to bear, just say a whisper of a pray;
Take me from here Oh! Lord thy God, a battered human being !
Copyright © Mark Anthony Netto | Year Posted 2013
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Mark Anthony Netto Poem
A child of mine was not to be, because of sinful deeds;
A life of fun & frolic too, I missed the lines between the two;
For mother & child is brilliant news, as long as none was between fun;
I caught the tear with the fear that mother and child were hapless few.
Conniving me, planned my plea just to see the little child flee;
Folks did talk me in, about the sinful act;
heads I win, tales I lose was always something of impact;
Playing around was total fun & bothered me the least when down;
Then came a time when I was fined by voices from above;
Broken down with issues flare;
The guilt was on my head,blind and unconcerned;
Surrender was my only bender when heavens gate opened but closed the moment I was near;
And from that far I look around and saw that hell was staring down at me.
Copyright © Mark Anthony Netto | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Mark Anthony Netto Poem
Wounded in battle from a long drawn fight;
Took refuge, late in the night, in a small burial ground;
Hungry and thirsty with no place to hide, fell asleep, in the dark of the night;
Woke to a sudden chilly breeze blow, that sent shivers and tremors right through my my spine;
The rustle and tussle of dry twigs and leaves, kept my eyes open with gleaming tears;
Shadows of darkness from big grumbling trees, felt like mammoths coming right at me;
Whisper in whispers from creatures around, felt like the world was angry with me.
Grumbling & scrambling with my two feet, hoped to catch a light in the dark.
Cris, crossing crosses, showed me a sign, only to quickly disappear again;
Huge was expansion, fighting direction seemed like an ocean filled with commotion,
in such proportion, that losing my quotient was simply a notion trying to flee from darkness & thee;
Slammed in the body by an ivory post that struck like a hand, from a man standing in silvery sand;
Fell to the ground with absolute sound that none could hear in such a town;
Woke the next morning shaking my ache, only to see voices awake;
Asking me questions that I could not take;
Managed to fumble and stumble away to a fresh start on happiness day
Copyright © Mark Anthony Netto | Year Posted 2013
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