Lemons of Life

February 7, 2013
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A man so dreary,
A man so tired,
Sits and lives in past memories.
A man once considered highly admired,
Lost in his dark and lonely fantasies,
Forever shut off from the world of the present,
Falling into the a world of unease,
Forever shut into the world of the past,
Nevermore to be seen.

This is a man who once had riches abound,
A man in love with girl,
A girl who’s fate saw her to drown,
And all the man had left from that girl was a single curl,
A golden curl,
Resting in a golden locket,
Lost with the man,
Lost in his mind’s never ending pocket,
Away it’s been before the sickness began,
Its glow fading with the man’s soul,
Fading away, slowly, fading, like color of the girl’s eyes did that night,
The fading aquamarine,
The color nevermore to be seen…

This man was once a boy,
A boy who loved lemon pie,
His very own mother used to joke and say that the boy loved lemon pie,
More than he even loved life.
Now people no longer smile when told,
They scowl and scorn at such young gluttony.
Strange to think a man once blamed for a sweet girl’s death,
Could ever once be a boy full of breath,
A boy who loved lemon pie,
Loved it more than he loved his life—
Or so he mother used to joke.
And like lemon pie, the girl and his mother,
These things that were in the man’s life,
Are nevermore to be seen...

Little events, little things of the past,
Could often be called pieces of string,
String that when woven equaled a life,
A life that sank when the funeral bells did ring,
A life ruined by lies,
A life ruined by death,
A life ruined by a man’s giving up--
Cowardly way to go, I suppose,
To give up when there’s still a fight.
To give up instead of face it through the dark times,
Nature itself proclaims that always after the dark comes the light.

The man no longer walked on fours,
He grew out of that long ago,
The man no longer walked on twos,
For that was gone with the girl and a part of his soul,
As of now he walks on threes.
One leg of wood,
Two of flesh,
And a back crooked with time.
This was a man who had riches abound,
A man who once had a good life,
But he gave it all up when that girl drowned,
Gave it up too easily,
Pray, dear friend,
Turn your life,
Give up not like him.
For as the man in the woods who hides from the present,
Lives in the past,
And runs from the future,
His happy, his upbeat spirit, his life in those now gray eyes,
Is nevermore to be seen…

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