1831
Back then, I was the color of coal
Chained and whipped with a lash
Now all I have is my dignified soul
With an exterior of bloody ash
I work from dusk till early dawn
My hands ache from the pain of it all
The others let out a simple yawn
But Alas! They are puppet masters - and I their doll
Oh, how I wish for freedom to come one day
For I cannot simply run away
The gun would shoot me, don't you see?
With the pesky silver bullets it holds
If I ever walk away free
I'll fall along the roads knocked out cold
I fear for death, for what comes after it?
God shall save me sometime soon I suppose
Sure, they have brawns yet I have wit
But should I sleep for eternity or a short doze
I am lying here still in pain
So what else do I have to gain
The Apple
She turned redder as each day came and went
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
From top to bottom, she was bruised and bent
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
She was fragile and very tiny in size
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
She could not speak so no one heard her cries
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
She was sliced and diced and just cut open
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
Her core was severed and almost broken
Yet she was still pleasant on the inside
She laid silently letting out a sigh
But she was still the apple of his eye
Tug-of-War
(based on Shakespeare’s Hamlet; From Ophelia’s perspective)
Oh love and obedience, the two evil foes
What shall I choose? For no one else knows
My father or my beloved, that is the choice
Why oh why can’t they simply rejoice
One is near my left and one is near my right
I am in the middle, heavy of stage fright
Which way do I go, which way do I go
My body is aching and my mind is full of woe
Perhaps tragic death is the golden key
For the two to come together and I to be happy
Violet
They are Day and Night,
Simply Fire and Ice
Known as Yin and Yang
Complete opposites, yet alike in every which way
Across deserts, oceans, mountains
They are the strangers who haven’t found each other
The ones who are slowly drifting into an ever-lasting sleep
Waiting to wake from this evil curse called life
They are the distant stars from afar
Transforming into constellations when pupils meet
ALL THAT IS SILVER DOES NOT SHINE
Every child is born with a platter
Whether it be fine Silver or poor Bronze
the sole conquerer heeds to the latter
Acquiring more pros and fewer cons
the Silver is piled with Earth’s objects
while Bronze is sat upon by zero
The worn platter with Nothing holds life’s checks
and Silver is called the cunning hero
But Faith in God is Bronze’s one kind friend
while Estate clings onto Silver’s back
those Silver bear one foe named Ego then
and due to, may grieve from a heart attack
Recall which that is Silver does not shine
We will get our rewards near end of Time
