Carnivorous

 

 

People in glass houses should not throw stones!

But I find myself thrown,

Thrown like lamb to lion

But that’s how it is,

That’s how it always is when

Suffering the purgatory of born lowest,

Lowest of low.

 

You start your day with all manners

Of optimism; keen, eager, ready to take

On the all - selfish gods bestow

As your quota of problems for the day,

But come nightfall,

You’re the stone again,

Dropping like brick to the bottom

Of deepest pools, dead inside

For all the years your heart lay

Broken, tormented, cast out to sink

Into the darkness of slumbering hollows;

That’s how it is to be crushed;

Life-form, to fossil, to stone, to dust

To be swept away in sediment streams of sadness!

 

To be told your quota is your reach

Outside your grasp makes for maddening –

And it’s sad we aspire from ghetto

To only grave,

Not given license to animate as human

But rather;- animal.

 

Time takes advantage,

Takes the little left you saved

Yet you hoped when your day comes;

The rock now sinking does no longer

Feel the coldness of life,

Will not feel when it has touched

The bottom,

For there it may stay,

Executed by callous Gods who

Favour lies and hate and if

I could say to my children

What means life

Like this, it would be that;

If you want to survive,

Swim like a Dolphin,

Find the open sea,

And thresh and dance from

Sky to the deepest,

Save much for yourself

Rely on only you and love,

But save some for your very own

As many try take it away,

And when your time draws near,

The light in your soul

As you feast upon the sea,

May take you higher than the

Dead pools many now sit

And there, only by

Rescue you may find me,

Watching as you rise

To only,- the power of you.

 

Michael J Waite 25^th February 2012