Ponder over some poetry

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



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