Simply - Poem by Alexander Coppedge
I want to do good in my living actual to be life; me to be inspiring to others and me to be something special, maybe a turtle stopping old practices of sucking mud in living: me popping out.
I in myself of being a bird in high watching, high above others who are my victims me in act of prey seeking: my hunger for defenseless lone worm wiggling, peering me at it flipping in strides.
Hooked in back weasel me gnarled teeth shown angered with rebellion's aggressions, a soldier aimed I to beat any foe before me promoting evil: what out of all shall I try in whole world to be?
A dry dusty desert storm side winding in the blazing heat twisting, my side slithering across the land disturbance in sand softly touching: or me perhaps big swimming fish under the deep sea.
Figure to be desired for me to be must be kind, he must have a love for all living creatures; I hold this vital acclaim for my life: and only I have the sole choice in me being.
Choice of my selected being not so odd or strange, I see him being great in good and wise in speaking seen in good character in person: a treasure chest holder and a carrier of virtues to free.
Him a honesty in heart with warm welcoming comments, him a true caring for other individuals, him not acts by himself proclaimed to be by him: but earned through others who can claim him.
Beloved by animal and children he would be a delight to be around, a happy person, his faith in trusts in giving to aid other than take: helper to bred hope with a voice to bless things, clever.
Let me see! Considering all selections proposed for me to become, me to aim for in my life's endeavoring for me to be accomplished: I think within all my considerations for me to be, like me.
A phantom wondering as a foreigner without a name or fame I to be, I could be passing you in rain in a crisscrossing, me waving with glad hi: you reply back smiling in peace.
A speaker of divine words with truth behind them, jubilation to all, I to give them through statements healing cut wounds the common people bleed: I to give repetitiously awakening thoughts.
This would be me being must be highly esteemed in all degrees, him aiding the down trodden and him to be humbled in self and a kind giver of hopes and dreams: I as him to be generous, indeed.
I in my transformation of this would be to hold beliefs within views giving us riches and big gains together, I as blood in the heart consistently pumping love: a healer in care working.
A meadow not harvested I in this ideal could become flourished green with wisdom, helpings for all to be grazed: me presenting to us in the world a table crops earned and reaped.
Field's treats overflowing for us in healthy fortunes, I as this field defined by my understanding am able to feed whole world starving: me finally ending world's host hunger pain.
Intents I have of me being beyond my dreaming of them simply to be views, me actually fulfilling something in this life: me performing being in words to wipe tears with truth.
Able I to see beyond the possessed, me seeing of those most needed dreams those need to be happening, me in some form of effort becoming one good thing; me the greatest thing: all I can be.
I to be able to stand haven been pounded and me doing so to yield true against evil long contracted lies, I to be a lighthouse beaming out to attract others lost out at sea: me a beacon to guide.
I in my believing to be high stepping with my brethren having humorous laughs, us all marching assembled, our vision resurrected from death plot: somehow us in becoming lead out of darkness.
My truth in accumulating this in my own eyes perfection to be held for me to die self chosen, my chose for ringing birth of regained wisdom: my light out beaming as bright as the sun.
Shadow's sightless hate going from me as I tumble out from confusion, I to stand against a host without regards or love for us: greedy leaders in a world that aims starves.
I to catch the common people's ears to realities, probabilities and potentials by informing them: I to play words in music simply, I will attempt to pluck out progress statements for us upon a harp.
Notes I will softly play calming to the violent evil spirit over us, them amplifying in crisp tones assuring love in its sound, song to sing tap warming thoughts: not Jesus's shadow of death.
Vigorously in countless strokes, I pluck rhythmic daily playing my freedom instrument into life's silence, I hoping in uniting us together to recognise: the lie so we can combat our enemies.
I and them the host of the world being one smiling as our Father watches, us coming to understand in reasoning our fight to be known to us: we fully armed to defeat a wild killing machine.
My finger's tips rapidly swings in motions fading as they play notes of freedom needed to be visible, defender is my desire for me to be of all my view pondering: I am for others righteous liberties.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
What should I be? The only thing you could be Simply
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