Lawrence S. Pertillar Poems

Why is it always those 'with' the money,
Attempting to convince the ones living...
On a fixed and unchanging income,
Without a dime left to spare...
...

I've had it with demons and sick of their tricks.
I've witnessed their tactics...
To identify them quick.
...

There is no magic done,
That comes to one...
Who begins to comprehend.
Maybe a stumbling to overcome,
...

I am not surprised when I hear,
That many readers do not write.
Nor am I shocked,
To learn those who write...
...

When you get to pick and eat it,
It tastes so good.
Even giving it a minute,
It tastes so good.
...

Every one of them makes as much sense,
As flies choosing to give last rites...
To those nagging fleas accustomed to riding,
Collectively...
...

Am I not,
Deserving of the love you give.
Oh,
Am I not.
...

Knowing what it has taken,
To make those forward steps made...
Gives me the satisfaction,
Of not having my movements distracted...
...

As I look back upon my path,
With those tests and mistakes...
I managed to pass with a lot of heartache.
I often ask myself,
...

Ironically enough,
As irony has come to me to show and bestow.
If it had not been for the anguish.
With those emotional traumas to experience.
...