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Poetry thread.
Critique if you want, or just write of you want.
No words Spoken in hard truth
Evaded the setting of my youth
When all that seemed was
And then there was a cause
To be better, to be true
To be more than you,
But as time played its
Fateful tricks and
The path seemed stricken with
Obstacles of unknown cause
Coupled with maturity's pause
Of if and what and how
Paralyzed the now .
And moving forth into
What could've been
And what is true
There is one constant
To be found,
It is me, it is you,
Waiting to speak true.
>>
Over the backyard fence,
Where wonder waited
To transform trees to warriors;
But as I grew taller,
The fence seemed smaller,
And no longer
Could wonder suffice.
>>
We sang obscenities underneath
The up-turned sprinkler
In our summer fort,
Believing we were sinking
In some Great War.
But she told on us,
And requiem turned
To what is.
>>
I waited to know, to feel
What was truly real
Between the Ads and fads
Which pulled at my strings and
Never settled to perfect tune
But who am I to presume
That I know more or better
Than any other begetter
For truth hides
In our sacred lies.
>>
Dante abondones our plight,
With no boundary do we fly
Into hell or worse
It is our course
And the end
Is the hardest.
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