Sticks, Stones, and the World

Sticks, Stones, and the World

A Poem by Wingless Angel of Dreams
"

As goes the human world round. We are all different in reactions, Some helpless, some fearless, Some enlightened, Some scared, and some hardened.

"

I’m scared.
So, so scared.
For when my world darkened
I thought the sun would rise,
I thought all would be well.

But nothing happens like that
Not when people hold you back,
No, not like we wish,
Not when darkness incases our worlds.
When we fall to our knees,
Shaking compulsively,**
Tears falling from our eyes
In a never ending fury.

I’m so, so scared.
Scared for that day
when the sun does rise again
That day I never see coming
I fear it
For if the sun rises, will it gleam
For just a day?
Or last for years and years,
As this frightening darkness has

I’m scared,
Because I’m not the only one,
Because millions of
WOMAN,
Have faced this before.
Cried the tears I shed
And have been incapable,
Of having that help spread its hands on them
In a honest form,
Because of the natural curse of time
That have been placed on us, a like.

I fear, I cry,
I’m scared.
Scared.
I want those hugs that try to consol,
To consol-
To push away that pain-
The fear and anxiety.

I don’t want any one to think I’m kidding.
That I’m lying.
To have that stone face.
For to not want, or feel the need
To help me or the others,
It’s not human.
And it is.
But it’s far from humane,
Can’t you see?
Greed, rules, regulations, constrictions.
The snakes that layer our path,
That nip at our heels.
And makes us obey.
They are not human beings, I mean.

They are what keeps the sad-
the truly sad hearts-
From beating in success,
Letting them beat in thick tears.
Let them drown,
Let them drown.

They cry “can someone help me?
This is America, is it not?
Can’t someone do something?”
And someone naively replies
“yes they can, some one can,
Just reach out and they will find you.”
The cons reach back to them,
The liars, the few good,
And the tainted, who try to help
But are held back by those snakes.

Don’t let them get you,
They’ll pull you under.
The human need for survival,
The idiocy for self help.
It kills us all, it really does
Just think about it.
The one falling, drowning in a sea
Reaches out to another, who doesn’t help
For fear they will fall too.

But in the end the one drowning gets swept away,
To places different each time.
And the fearer, they still watch on,
Until the others, the corrupted, the snakes
chase them in, away from the sea,
And they cry the same tune.
“Help, please help”
And once in a blue moon
One person help the drowning,
And the populous watching,
They see it as something blasphemous.

“Why help the dying?
It’s better with out them,
Less to worry about.
Why help them?”
And others they see
The goodness and are inspired
Some can’t do anything they say.
Some don’t understand
But their hearts see the light
Even though they can’t come out of their
Self-made cocoons.

Then once in-a-while, some suffers find
That floating in that drowning ocean
And enjoying the washing waves
Is not as bad, as their eyes tell them it is
They banish the lies-that block them
The lies that are true, and false
And they shine in that ocean, a marvel,
A-site-for-sore-eyes.
The one who Some see
Some wave to, Some sneer to,
As goes the human world round.
We are all different in reactions,
Some helpless, some fearless,
Some enlightened,
Some scared, and some hardened.

I’m not saying to be one
I’m not saying to conform,
Hardly I am.
I’m just letting you know
What scares me so,
What haunts us pass the snakes,
The things we never knew were ever there.

I’m scared, stiff
I’m so very scared.
Help them,
Help them,
So this silly fear leaves me.
And them,
Help them,
Not me, just them.
I’ll reap the sunlight the helped spread.
For I am the lost one seeing the light,
But not reaching father enough,
Bound by my own being-less chains

 

© 2009 Wingless Angel of Dreams


Author's Note

Wingless Angel of Dreams
i made this poem look all pretty. on word it does. but when i transferred it. well... it doesn't look so pretty anymore... oh well. but this poem, on a serious note, is its own serious note. its true it is. i promise.

those stars ** idk what exactly i meant compulsive... the other shaking violently, someone help pleas?

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i really liked this but i think it was a little wordy but it had a very good meaning. The description was also really good as was the imagery. Great job.
With love,
Tallulah

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on June 16, 2009
Last Updated on June 17, 2009

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Wingless Angel of Dreams
Wingless Angel of Dreams

NY



About
Writing is my passion. It keeps me up past 2 AM, on a school night typing out my hearts desire to the Holy Spirits whispered words. It keeps me thinking, always writing, and always dreaming. .. more..

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