How rambling the wild river,
How confined, is that roaring river.
How calm the silence,
How mad, that deafening silence!
How freeing is the drug?
How shackling, that very drug.
How clear, how luminous their eyes.
How dim, how clouded your eyes.
I tilt my face to the sky,
Not in strife--
But to laugh with a sigh.
This thing is a bit funny
For, as we perceive it,
Is not solely in the eye to see.
How honey-sweet the success,
How bitter that insurmountable success.
How crippling the defeat.
How rousing, that sting of defeat.
How fair the beautiful people
How amazingly ugly, those beautiful people.
How vast our knowledge,
How miniscule is our human knowledge?
I lift my face to the sky,
Not wanting an answer,
But I still ask why?
They cry tears of joy
But I can't be bought.
They feel the sorrows of a moment,
Never again to happen, left in the past, forgot.
How strong the power of love.
How weakening that powerful love.
How relieving, the time on the clock.
How dread-inducing, the hands on that same clock!
How appeasing the comfortable routine.
How maddening that same, stoic routine.
How liberating the money
How chained you are, by that money.
How flourishing, how lush those emerald trees.
How gaunt, how barren the frost-bitten trees.
I turn my face to the sun.
It's warmth feeling similar to none, upon my skin.
It comforts, making known I'm not the only one.
Somewhere out there, sits a stranger undeclared.
He felt that same magic upon his skin,
Finding the smallest comfort, in a human experience shared.
Great poem, really enjoyed it. I think you ended it well, and I greatly appreciated the last stanza and specifically the last sentence. I look forward to reading more of your work as you continue to write!
ReplyDeleteI enjoy receiving applause and critique alike, thank you kind unknown!
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