|Agonia.Net | Policy | Advertising||Contact | Participate|
|Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique|
￭ 'post me' poem
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2012-12-26 | |
I was part of a story, a nephew next to his grannies, then a nephew without them. So my life changed in ways that have never been written, there, onto the deepest blank side of imagination. They fairly wanted a more beautiful garden for their little Adam's air.
Yes, it's true, I've been living in a better world. And -I, anyone- we wish the same for the younger us. Not far from the truth is that we have never been quite able to avoid undesirable consequences, even when pursuing a general good principle.
As a fact, I was rather sad when I listened to an artist I love, in his performance, entitled "For nothing". There was a song, which's verses fairly blame the grown powerful offspring of a society of unworthy behavior – a society adjusted by the elders.
People can levitate above their wounded soul. Actually, I saw on internet an illusionist floating, in Rio, in front of the statue of Christ the Redeemer; and i thought he was being lifted by camouflaged men, under the statue's color. But it made no difference to the people who weren't thinking like me.
Scientists say something like there was an astral egg that hit a planet, far too long ago, which became the Earth we know. And I found this theory closest to the daemons of my being; where time is more than a journalized entity.
Back to my garden, out of pain I've altered the roots of my feelings. Yet, thanks to all my fathers and mothers, I haven't possessed much violence to fight against. Notwithstanding, along the way, I've learnt to weaken those feelings that hurt me, as a practice, and I'm not proud of the results.
Shouldn't have I been searching out a lovely way to mind -if hurt-, for the sake of my garden?!
|Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests.|