PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There was the 'Was' we had,

that told us to be good

We trusted in its shared display

But defied it if we could



Because we were the young

Those still so new to bounds

And we were mad and scared and glad

that we chose to stand our ground



We the mighty warriors

who always threw the first

And watched it blow, saw it go

and ran in all directions



Simple things that try to breathe

the air they shared with men

And prove themselves so there and then

That they decide their end



And then they turn to stone

With a gargoyle's sense of stoic

Who provide a bit of distance

And choose to have you know it



Their growth is near to frighten

Like behemoths moving fast

Time is inconveient

Their patience cannot last



And then they have a stumble

Over some thing True

That tries to take them away from you



You learn of something New

And it becomes proof

That you were meant to do this too



You and yours serve as pride

That takes the place of theirs

You even try to speak your mind

And they at least try to listen



And then you ask a question to yourself

You look around at all your things

The kid that always turns away

And makes you feel so frightened



It feels like years and proves to be

That you're the seed that's turned to tree

Raising things that never see

That you want them to be free



You tire easy, stop to rest

Catch a glimpse of passing by

The world keeps running, you slow down

While you cease to really touch



Your habits stick and you are you

The oldest bit of family crew

That sleeps so much, wakes up fast

And is something like a bother



But they love you, you love them

You tell them that one now and then

They believe you, you do too

And that's what keeps them moving on



Every bit of wasted of time

May here or there so cross your mind

You choose to mourn or set aside

What-could-haves of ancient time



And then you lay

And then you die

And those around you

Say Goodbye



And as you're sent careening

Towards your place of After

That you sought in silence

Or with a bit of laughter



You cannot speak a word

You can't convey your thought

And people still will weep

At an image of you smiling



And at least, they may pray

Or wish you peace of resting

And you will feel, somewhere far

That somebody still does love you.