Self composition its almost over butterfly wings and painted faces dance across my eyes at the local fair sunlight and rainbow colours flash between the leaves of the feeble old oak tree that grows down there childrens smiling faces loved ones warm embraces and im all of twelve years old but now mother natures crawling and the old oak tree is falling in the playground at the bottom of my street and my heart is beating colder Mother Earth is growing older underneath my aching aging fractured feet this old world is groaning like a frail old feeble grandpa as the joyous children bounce upon his knee he can feel his old frame pining yet in pain he keeps on smiling because he knows that children simple must be free just like our earthly mother who keeps breathing as she smothers choking like asthmatic victims of mans crimes but childrens smiles are fading as mother earth continues aging growing old and failing way before her time childrens darkened faces carbon prints and traces and im all 24 years old memories of golden sunlight running free through open fields of magic lush green iridescent grass the memories fade to distant corners crushed by modern lifes demands like a chastised child grow up forget the past steel and brick and concrete solid stone beneath my feet and ,im all of fifty nine years old and now mother earth is crying and the old oak tree is dying in the playground at the bottom of my street and my heart is beating slower as this world is almost over underneath my aching aging fractured feet
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 07:22:44 +0000
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