January 19, 2010
I try to walk this path of time with joy,
To try to be the son of morning near.
With wish and tear, they call, I come as Troy.
To Greeks I go at daggers point to bier.
Then now the time is here, I try to care.
Ambrosia flows with talk and wine to swine.
Through gift comes grief and thought of pride to bear.
Now done, the deed; the human delight, with tine.
As sting of slight blurs mind and hand to sleep,
They go while waking indecision breathes.
Then off with plunderous plight, a downward steep.
Once home reality breaks dawn with heaves.
The thought of Christmas past leaves taste of brine,
On palates young and old until next time.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Milo! said...
Mar. 14, 2010 at 12:32 pm
I really love this. I really like how everyone can relate to this. I hope you keep writing, because this is great. You should check out some of my stuff. I think you would like it.
presidentialhair replied...
Mar. 14, 2010 at 8:57 pm
hey thanks, um yea im prolly never gonna stop writing and i looked at some of your stuff, your good.
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