I The Fysherman

A Poem.

Like ponies prancing upon the plains,

they all smile so broadly still walking in their lanes,

yet to me men look so glum

when they’re only marching to the beat of a steady drum.

The slightest change in rhythm and they could all turn

great doctors, vets, and engineers, all of them ready  to burn.

But I don’t want to be trapped like them in their ordered societal rape

I long to find some magical escape.

So I once looked to those who stepped when the drum beat not

but to step only in silence gives method to the madness of their trot.

When both are just two sides of the same coin, I loathe to stand on that ledge

although to flip a coin forever, means to one day find its edge.

Found is it in children just as they are born,

for in that moment they are free from being tipped, tipped by world’s forlorn.

This liberty is all I wish I could have sewn,

to act outwith like a madman, but his actions he can hardly call his own.

It is only in the Cobalt One who owns my mind

that I see anything in men worth looking for to find.

But oft my fear runs thick and never known could be “we” or I

so best I grow new wings else these are clipped before I fly.

And fly I shall! On the wings of my poesy much like that of Keats

for wing-strokes are far off marching rhythm beats.

So in such deep thoughtful words shall I forever continue to drone

no longer scared to face this world all on my own.

Reviews

[S.F]

This poem is a creation of a genius. I rarely do find such a perfect blend of words that are weaved with such deep emotion. I congratulate you on this masterpiece; it is indeed one of a kind.
-S.F

[Speaking Sandclocks]

I rarely like rhymed verses but you bring rhyme out very well with your words. Well written with a clear structure.

[Cool Girl]

That is such a powerful poem! Great job writing it!