Walking threw the city, there was a old woman feeding birds. One of the birds lured in closer, were promptly stuffed into a plastic bag and pushed down a backpack. To question what she was doing with the birds is curiosity, but to judge could be considered immoral?
Normally I try to stick to a regular setup for my posts, but yesterday I read (and reread several times) a poem called "Absolutely Nothing". It has been making me compare my life to this child's. What does it make you think about?
Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it 'Chops'
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it.
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it 'Autumn'
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it 'Innocence: A Question'
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at 3am he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly.
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it 'Absolutely Nothing'
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.
I just sat and watched as you slowly destroyed your life.
People don't understand that their addictions have repercussions on their loved ones. When they're gone, who will teach the younger generations right from wrong?
Time always goes so fast there isn't really a reason to document it. Whether you were late or on time to some meeting 15 years ago, how is that effecting you today? Has your life changed from missing school in 3rd grade or forgetting to pick up your daughter at softball practice?
I hear to much of convoluted relationships where neither of them leave because they have worked to hard to try and perfect it. Overlooking is sometimes easier than complete disbandment.
The cold silent morning would come ever to quickly.
It still amazes me how people deal with taking their leave. By feeling inferior to death, the only humanly possible thing we can do is to take it into our own hands.
I only write without ink because I don't like to make mistakes.
So what if you're wrong? Chances are, you'll get something out of your mistake. Who knows maybe next wrong answer you say, could help you discover new a way of thinking.
He was our world, our savior. He was genuine, magnificent, determined. But you didn't know him. To you, he might as well just be another blank frame on the wall.
Have you ever been to a museum? What do you remember the most? I've always liked the countless photos they have on display. Those set individuals, did much more then what was written about them in the history books. Next time you see a portrait, keep in mind that they meant the world to someone, whether you knew them or not.
They didn't care about the job, they only wanted the lifestyle.
Do you even like your job? Or are you just in it for the perks it brings? Just because you are relatively good at what you do, doesn't mean you can't look for a better career.
It opens a portal to where ever it's fastened, but where is leads remains a mystery.
Do you like taking chances? Most people don't, these people never live life to it's full potential. Why not go buy a one-way train ticket to "Surprise me"?
And that is how it grew, every tangle and curl intact.
Some things in life wouldn't be as beautiful if not entangled in their own web. What are things in your life that you left to become tangled then prayed they unraveled?