Second verse
Missed the first
Way to go
Way too slow
Summer brings
Hot sticky things
While winter holds
Running noses, colds
And how could there possibly
Still be things to say to me
Things to say to you
Other than what is true?
Truth is dangerous
Though canorous
We think it'll bring
A happy spring
We forget-
Spring is muddy, wet
With melted pure white
Ignorance's plight
The season's turning
Signs of the burning
Just around the corner
The red hot scorner
What's so good about truth?
Was I worse off in my youth
When I knew even less?
I confess
I don't think so
Now, watching the flowers grow
Out of the destruction of the pure white
Waiting to burn in skepticism's light
Missed the first
Way to go
Way too slow
Summer brings
Hot sticky things
While winter holds
Running noses, colds
And how could there possibly
Still be things to say to me
Things to say to you
Other than what is true?
Truth is dangerous
Though canorous
We think it'll bring
A happy spring
We forget-
Spring is muddy, wet
With melted pure white
Ignorance's plight
The season's turning
Signs of the burning
Just around the corner
The red hot scorner
What's so good about truth?
Was I worse off in my youth
When I knew even less?
I confess
I don't think so
Now, watching the flowers grow
Out of the destruction of the pure white
Waiting to burn in skepticism's light
I like this one too.
ReplyDeleteEvolve
ReplyDeleteLove at this age is like a jungle, filled with tigers and traps.
Why do so many of us choose to enter the jungle when it is so much safer to stay away?
Is it better that I was dumb so I could fall and learn from my mistakes?
Am I the best I could be or would I have been better if I acted differently?
Just some thoughts, not a poem
-jamesparkisdead