Few stop at my door to visit,
It may be the darkness that they fear;
Through the open windows my voice resounds,
Are they startled by what they hear?
Sometimes in a loud tone I rant,
Perhaps, by a few, deemed too robust;
But this is my voice, and these are my words,
So keep your distance, if you must
There are those who talk quietly,
Speaking of God and his loving ways;
Then there are those who reminisce their youth,
Reliving their happier days
Never has God come to my door,
So I have no divine tales to tell;
My youth was simple, passed with nonchalance,
So on this theme I shall not dwell
I could tell of cold, lonely nights,
And how it feels to be all alone;
I'm adept at treating love's mortal wounds,
Yet, I could never heal my own
More than once, ill winds thrust me down
And Time had to refeather my wings;
I've been neglected, abandoned and lost,
So I tend to dwell on these things
Skies become gray, clouds tend to burst
When they pass over my little space;
Perhaps this is why guests dare not linger,
Too distant and strange is my place.....
Then be off with you, and quicken your pace!
What do you mean Few? ! why, i see five (5) comments below! ! ! OH! they are all from me! bri :) ;)
You have obviously been tied down, ….but not ‘that way’. Something tragic, as you left your youth, came your way. You were/are “neglected, abandoned and lost”. Good grief! I’ve racked my mind for a solution, but for you find NO relief. The best thing NOW for you to do is crawl from your hovel, AND drop into your grave. Take someone ‘good with a shovel’! Happy 2018! bri :)
Your youth must have been “boring”. It’s too bad. And now, in your last few years, you are so sad. It’s tragic; I can NOT begin to tell you one small lie. One small lie would NOT fix you. I’ll tell you why. (TO BE CONTINUED!) .....
A Few Suggestions Turn on lots of lights in your house. A muzzle will make you sound like a mouse. With darkness vanquished, some may stop. Yes! (If not afraid of mice) some may “by” drop! Try a sign in yard saying “God, come in now! ” Have on hand a whole roasted suckling sow. [I hear He likes pork, though He WAS a Jew.] To drink, serve water; He’ll make it ‘Wine for Two’! (to be continued) ........
this is one of your best, i.e. one of your gloomiest..............and 'best-written' to top it off. of course it is only bri's opinion. many may HATE IT! to MyPoemList and i think February's showcase shall insist on including it! ! bri :) (to be continued, by me?) ................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
some favorite lines (though i like, very much, them all) : Skies become gray, clouds tend to burst When they pass over my little space; ................i'll have a word with the climatologists! Expect sunny skies soon! ! (to be continued) ..................