May 13, 2010
By seer22 BRONZE, Hendersonville, Tennessee
seer22 BRONZE, Hendersonville, Tennessee
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I find it joy to write these poems for you
An introduction, roughly of my lively roles
The struggle to the eminence I hold them to:
My ethics, passions, values, and my goals

I rooted in a world, illicit and distraught
Profanities too pernicious for my wincing eyes
But skies, they were too nebulous that I could not
Divulge the storms they hinted from the weatherman's lies
And thus of innocence I vainly did retain
And felt but never KNEW the impact of the rain

As for the substance of my ethics, Hell
I bind no overtones of lawfulness to my soul
My system runs on essence-- essence I know well:
No stealing, lying, cheating, and of truth console

My values there are many bobbing all around
My head, like buoys on the rifting seas of Earth
They're cast beneath the surface, then abruptly found
And save me from the storming, never once in dearth:

My family arrests me from mistake and scorn
My friends conceal abstrusity of mindstates worn
My lord he feeds me truth that otherwise would veer
My path, like words of wisdom from the teenage ear
And from his gloried spirit, I elicit well,
Through praise, the turgid wealth of knowledge I retell

Now passions-- Oh passions! Let them live for long!
My heart has known no zeitgeist nor of fad, alike
To breach the depth of jubilance I find in song
Or quiet-minded walks, to thus fulfil my psych
With friends, or in my lonesomeness I find my heart
Forgiving the iniquities of my flesh, apart

Could I tell you of my leaping hopes, my frantic dreams?
So young, so pubescent that they still would last?
Surviving with the tangent of these changing themes
We call of adolescence, by logic unsurpassed
Perhaps to be precise it is a possible feat
But time could waver any goal my soul could greet

I dream so much, that all I wish to do
Is grown like weeds compiled through one-thousand springs
But suffer from neglect--I keep in mind but few
And those now live beside me as of common things

I wish to venture- to asses this land
From forest to cavern, from cave to golden sand
And maybe for a moment I'll rely on me
No prison of the home, or friends, or family
And maybe when I lie too weak, and death I give
I might not thus conclude that never did I live

I find it joy to write these poems for you
A basic introduction of my lively roles
So now that you know me a bit, I'll know you too
And we'll explore the truth the soldiered lie patrols

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