A Very Small Theft - Poem by Jan Freundschuh
Hey, Hey, brother Dylan, I wrote you a poem,
Been thinkin', 'bout your choices,
How when you were oh so young,
You saw your Destiny,
.....The whole world was awaitin'......
To get there just a small price
To be paid,
A small theft,
Of unguarded albums,
Music, you had need to swallow
To gain the Grail.
So steal you did.
No one was hurt,
Is principle even a good thing?
Or is it but the road leading
Straight to Self-Righteousness
Which goeth before a fall?
You make a good case,
So, a tiny theft, a tiny lie,
A tiny turning of a deaf ear,
In exchange for the W*H*O*O*S*H*
That was heard round the world.
I am not judging, truly.
I am only peering.
Was it an underground fault line?
Bound to grow, until it,
Swallows your soul?
Will you needs come back?
A one-eyed jack?
Without a home?
A beggar, an orphan,
This time for real.....
To fill out, live out,
Your own spit out
Or was it a small deed that you
Have had the time to
Shake your head about,
To tell your kids and grandbabies:
'It's not ideal....but human...is what we are.
Forgive me. Forgive yourself.
Forgive your enemy too.'
If you do this, it will be
Like stealing that loaf of bread,
To feed your starving children --
A thing blessed in the
But if this does not sound like you. dear brother.
Look carefully at all the cracks,
As you walk, dear brother.
Be ready to run.
Run and hide in the doorway.
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