The Armless ManA Poem by E.L. JuniorWith an omnipresent gaze, as if enhanced by God’s own glasses, I watched the armless man fumble about his day. With an abrupt awakening, as if a fall from grace, The clamoring of a seemingly relentless alarm With no snooze button compelled the man to life. This morning his soulful body arose with Acute amnesia. His dreams, in which he was so intertwined with, Lost forever. The constant ringing kept them at bay. The morning dawned with previews of hope and the sublime, As arrays of newborn light filled his perspective. Sounds of Tangible elegance and beauty hint of opportunities That may accompany the day. In this moment, I perceived An innocent sweetness that radiated from his youthfulness. The beginnings of day, coincided with this man, For both their potentials was unbounded and infinite. A strange tone from the man’s door echoed this morning. The man waddled to the front door. A gift awaited His eager hands. He stared at it; just outside his door; Just outside his reach. The man, born with no arms, could only look, For he was physically unable to unravel the enticing wrappings, Or even open the door. With unfathomable possibilities wrapped inside, The armless man day-dreamed of its contents. Yet, this gift to him, Was the same as that forecasted sunny day, to a recluse. As dusk subsided to the rising Sun, I observed the armless man Pace throughout his home. Consistently breaking and mending Line of sight with the gift, he sensed the power withheld; the possibilities. He eventually strayed away from the outside altogether, As he became seemingly enamored by all his possessions. He took much pride in his collection. Without interaction, without interference, the man Idolized his belongings. Staring intently at his video games That he would never play; at his football that he would Never throw. He longed for interaction with his possessions, He loved them. I could see it on his face, It enveloped his entire being. I feared he was helpless From collapsing under the gift’s gripping, and looming temptation. I watched, as the spectacle of the gift’s cargo manifested his obsession. The warm Sun, corrupted by a blanket of wickedness. The promises from the sunny morning, soon perverted, As a downpour ensued and the armless man’s beloved gift, Polluted into a sopping mess. Pity for his unused belongings swallowed him at night. During this time, as dawn descends, a perplexing show Of light and glitter enveloped the darkness in the sky, Yet the armless man still wept. I shouted desperately at him, In a last attempt to mercifully reveal the show of beauty outside, A place where even an armless, has no handicap. But the armless man’s anguish had obscured his sense, Any effort was futile. Unable to wipe the tears away from his own face, He nestled his guilt forcefully into his favorite pillow. Eventually, he succumbed to the suffocation of his permanent slumber. The whole time I lingered. I longed to play with him and introduce him to the wonders of outside. I would have even happily accepted an invitation inside. Company with Me is a peacefulness that could pacify Even the most hostile of antagonists. Yet, now I feel not for the fact that he was armless, but For the fact that he was blind. He never even noticed me in the window. © 2018 E.L. JuniorAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on April 23, 2018 Last Updated on April 23, 2018 Tags: Society, Humanity, God, Philosophy, Tragedy, Greed, Possession AuthorE.L. JuniorPhiladelphia, PAAboutMy girlfriend told me to post my short stories so I came here. Feedback and thoughts welcome. Enjoy? more..Writing
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