Oh what a fool am I; to think I could be important. For all my life I have been downtrodden by those of an older age. I try to be me, I try to be free, but now you see my world is slowly melting. I try to help for I have a need to be needed, yet the harder I try, the harder I fall. One day I hope to be a star, but for now I say I am so far. I am always here before I'm needed yet rarely am I known. For what is a cruel world where I feel ever alone, and forever so distant. My eyes laiden with tears as time slowly, weakly melts away. For when is it that I feel broken for I have no place among those elder than I. For I who feels small in body, mind, and wit, and get sadder the more I see those of larger stature, wit, and build. For a heart that sorrows with in mine bousum. What a fool am I to fall upon the Idea of being one who was needed. For they thinketh that I am a man that for I can not dance, nor sing, for that I am a man therefore I can not kind, nor be as sensitive as a child. For I am a man I must be strong in wit, and might and bring fear upon the souls of many, That as a man therefore can not bring light upon the souls of others, for they think me to be of a fox. For that I am younger therefore; I am childish and strange. What is the world that I am in that young and old can not coincide as one, and must be classed in that of childish, or old. Those that come with vigor and great pride then are crushed by the hammer of rejection. For what is a world that is as empty as it is full. That is as ugly as it is beautiful. What a world is this that different is Bad and of no good tidings. But for yet there is of those times disbalance, that there I say there is peace. For is this possible that I of small stature may be noticed by those of stars and of scholars. Do I say is it possible that I of all, may be seen as the elder spirit that I know I am. Though of little age but older spirit. That they of talent and vigor speaketh to me, though but a child, yet they speak not to I as a child but as that of their own age. Is it possible that this world is not as apart as I once thought. For here I pray thee, where or where am I not? That this world seemeth to be changing before mine eyes. What is such madness that mine spirit once more, bringeth good tidings. Or I pray thee have walked upon another world, or is it that I, as time flies hath cometh of age to be known as a man? I pray thee is it that I am not a boy but not as of yet, a man. As ounce was said by he of a literate tongue. For what is of this world, for what is of this feeling that I become wise with every wild day that pass. For I pray thee what of this feeling in mine bousum, of joy and of a meaning beyond my knowledge? For I dine and linger with those of elder age, and I am of joy an expression of time and space that oft baffle me. For now I ask thee what be mine purpose. I pray thee am I man or servant, or I do say a guide for those of past and present.
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Poetry compilation
PoesíaHere is a compilation of some of the poetry pieces from my coming book that will be published January 1,2020. Please read, cherish and tell me your thoughts.
