Stop The Game, Please! Poem by Romeo Della Valle

Leave alone, please!
I cannot copy
Your methods anymore,
Take your advice away
And donate it to charity
Instead of burdening
My delicate condition
With long formed
Cultural habits...

I have reached a point
Where you must take me
Or leave me
As I come to you_
I will not learn new ways
Mine are cemented in trial
And constant error...

Like a tree first planted,
The seed of an unwilling
New generation,
Left wild to grow freely
In the unrestrained air
Of a wood possessed
By no earthly proprietor,
Out, saved, molded
Into manageable bits,
Cast off for an eternity
And dry out all its life-
Preserving moisture and tossed
Inconsiderately into flames
Which never dies...
Consumed in the name of necessity,
Practicality burned, scorched,
Poked at and reduced to ashes...

I cannot be planted
In this ground again
And be made to grow into anything,
Anymore I can nurture a warm home-
Matter, once destroyed,
Will not return
In the same structure!
I will appear again,
Immaterial and immortal
For the body dies
But never the soul...


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