I'd like to tell you about a friend
Who goes about selling snacks
She walks alone from Monday to weekend
From the subdivision gate and back.
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I love the quiet of the night
When only little crickets sing
In unison with the gentle breeze
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We were childhood playmates
Way back in the late fifties
She was sort of a retardate,
We children were not aware of this.
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He was the neighborhood nuisance
Each morning we heard his loud mouth
When he spoke he caused a disturbance
And would throw all his cigarettes about.
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By the fruit you will know them
Not by the pious labels worn
For actions and words confirm
If a man has been truly reborn.
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One cannot presume what the other is thinking
Nor can one give motives behind a poem
Unless in laser-like mind reading
One, like a Superman, by miracle has become.
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So many people try to write poetry
Groups of words laid out quite randomly
Sway to and fro in their diverse thought
But these lack any meaning that is sought.
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They want you to bow
Christmas you must forget
Because we all know
Christ in the word frets
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Our lives are nearing sunset,
Change has little time for us.
But this we must never forget-
What's in the heart matters, it's precious.
...