|
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2017 7:52:57 GMT
I tried to scream,
but could not do so.
The law said, "No sir.
That sound might wake your fellow man,
and your fellow man don't deserve no screaming."
I tried to scream,
to get away,
yet I could not get away.
"No sir.
It's night time,
and only the Devil's deeds be done in the dark."
I tried to scream;
to get away
from the man who broke in to my home.
The law said no,
and no I did,
and now the law searches for the man it protected:
my killer.
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2017 7:58:14 GMT
It's a hard road,
for the boss man with his whip
cracks my back.
I carry my sledge
and play my music.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I try to sing a song,
but he don't like the tune,
and he cracks my back.
I'm tired.
If I were his boss,
I'd let him sing.
I would not bring the whip,
nor stop his tune,
but the boss is not me.
He thinks not of my struggles.
He is the boss!
He does not like my tune,
and he cracks my back.
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2017 8:11:46 GMT
Healing's not a pleasant thing,
no bright flashes of light.
No love, no flowers, no birds;
no things'll bring a smile
to your eyes.
The tourniquet, the saw;
the stick of wood I bite:
I lose a limb. I cry in pain.
I try to touch what isn't there,
until I remember that I'm alive.
I'm alive! I'm alive!
I did not die!
I lost a limb!
My soul survives!
Hallelujah!
Why? Why did I lose my limb?
Why am I burdened to be a cripple
when others get to be whole?
Why must I be thankful,
when others are so ungrateful?
Thank God!
He who gives me strength!
I'm grateful He took my leg,
cut my pride,
and brought me, humbly, closer to Him!
I hate you!
How dare you?
They look away!
I am alone!
I'm so alone.
All alone.
Alone.
No more.
I tie my knot
with thirteen coils.
Hang it high.
Hang it high like that God in the sky!
I step up.
I fall down.
My dirge is a heavy creaking
of a grown man swinging.
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 15, 2017 8:51:15 GMT
Two faces on the coin,
like two faces that they wear.
They speak of paradise,
yet it is only for themselves.
I, oh pilgrim, ever searching,
am not of them.
They demand I be as they:
to wear two faces,
yet understand which is truth
and which is lies.
I come from a land of truth
to a land of lies.
Where is my holiness,
my salvation?
I sought refuge,
yet found only struggle
from the angels
that were supposed to be my brother.
A lie, a lie;
it's all a lie.
I was deceived.
My eyes are open
and salt pours out
like an ocean.
The truth hurts;
the tears continue to flow.
I wanted to believe
in your claimed perfection,
but it was all a lie,
and I gave all to travel.
The winter came early,
and the world is cold.
I shiver without home
or blanket to keep me warm.
I freeze
until I finally find the warmth of true salvation.
Thank you,
oh great spectre,
oh Death!
Liberate me from my struggles,
free me from my woes,
and carry me to paradise!
|
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2017 1:58:28 GMT
A ball of yarn
is a massive thing
until the end is pulled
and cut away
as things are made
right down to its spool.
The spool recycled,
or perhaps discarded,
but the yarn is never the same.
When the spool is bare
and its wood is showing
does it feel any shame?
I long to be
neither spool, nor yarn,
no fleeting fate do I desire.
I long to be
yarn's creation,
and to last for a lifetime.
A useful thing,
A beautiful thing;
that's what I long to be.
So the spinner
who weaves this tale
make something good of me.
|
|
