PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Bicker makes bruised

We shift our point-of-view only to find

How much stronger we are

Than we tend to let on

How we expend such effort

Hiding weakness from those we love

Afraid we might lose them

Set their feet on fire

And, never get the chance to choose when

Or whose heart may desire our's better

Give sweeter, more fulfilling nectar

Or, infuse truer love into our own

I haven't the experience to turn wisdom into credible advice

To spur my idle feet

To kick myself in my own teeth

To wake myself and see

The roots I've planted

Or, where I'll stand when I finally see

Myself for my own leaves

And, not the forest surrounding me

Focused like an ant

Following the trail back to the Queen

The locus' sing

Of skeleton's shed, of unfolded wings

But, I ask

What's so credible about instinct

If instinct doesn't allow for choice

And, won't provide an alternate voice to follow

Should I be distracted then by any noise

Even that which echoes inside

And, happily swallow its advice

When it screams there's only one heart for my own

So, here I stand

Hands at my side

As my leg swings back

And, aims squarely at my teeth

In order that

My clenched eyes might relax

See light instead of black

And, never close again

And, never become lax

When hope becomes dim

And, it's hard to see past the moment I stand in