Fixing up an old poetry I wrote in 2010. I thought it was poorly written, therefore I kept it out of public for a long time. Now I read it again, and wow it does sound not too bad. Anyhow, I don’t want to keep this poetry in private anymore, and here it is. Hopefully, I had fixed it enough that it is no longer that bad. Nonetheless, whether it’s poorly written or not, please enjoy it!!!
- Why do humans love cruelties so much?
- So much, very much so
- that one can always call upon
- the ghosts of the pasts
- and ask
- about the terrible things
- they once had witnessed
- in times
- about the terrible things
- they once partook
- in times
- about the terrible things
- they rather whispered
- in times
- about the terrible things
- they thought God wept
- in times
- about the terrible things
- one rather bit own tongue
- in times
- about the terrible things
- one dug a hole to hide one’s head
- in times
- about the terrible things
- evil ruled the world
- in times
- about the terrible things
- angels rather wept
- in times
- about the terrible things
- wrong seemed right
- in times
- about the terrible things
- no soul knew good deeds
- in times
- about the terrible things
- simplest matters seemed impossible
- in times.
- Yes, yet a nose from he
- or she or me
- had ever yet to grow
- longer than a usual nose
- unlike he who called himself
- I am Pinocchio
- who was a creation of pine
- who wanted to be a real boy.
- Yes, although a man over there
- looked like a golden bar
- and a woman over here
- looked like a yummy chocolate
- and a child over there
- resembled red soil
- and a senile over here
- had been as white as snow
- but everyone of them
- had bled with red water
- that polluted the stream
- of past histories.
- One could pour a bucket
- full of ink over this
- in black or red or whatever
- words could form as if magic
- needed nobody to form them
- by the will of God’s words
- had formed themselves.
- Wasn’t that one agreed
- of the first word’s origin
- how it came about
- and how it lingered
- in the air or
- in the tongue
- of a first word bender
- which told the tale
- of the first humans
- if not one but two
- had come together
- as one to form
- a flock of what is now
- in billions
- and yet the flock
- seems to lose sight
- of what weighs more
- than gold
- to let cruelties
- rule the world,
- the world of the flock
- the flock of the world
- shall meet the end
- if not careful
- and be constructive
- as destructive force
- the flock has came to love
- runs amok among the flock,
- then the flock is no more
- no longer shall or but
- and is only that the flock
- is no longer in existence
- and shall too
- all cruelties of the world
- obliterating into nothingness.
- It is too late as now
- for the flock to turn
- the tide of time
- to change what cruelties
- into love once bounded the flock
- in the very beginning
- when word first spoke
- on a first father
- and a first mother
- true parents of all humankind.
- Too late is too late.
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