(It's a little to long to fit into Yahoo's alloted space so the last two stanzas will be in 'Details' below it. Please wait for them before responding.)
A Poet’s Lament
We ten thousand poets, pen in hand,
scream outward in anger with our might,
our words flow like blood upon the land
as ten thousand blinded by the light ---
while ten thousand lovers do no right.
With ten thousand muses from above,
each one involved in us making love,
us losing love, us forsaking love,
poets always seem to have it worse;
our broken hearts seeping endless verse.
As ten thousand souls, misunderstood,
in relationships we know that would
bruise us, bang us, slam us to the ground,
we thousand poets will soon be found
explaining pain to the world around.
With ten million single men out there,
ten million single women somewhere,
what would happen if we wisely chose
a good-hearted mate from one of those —
a returned love that we could share?
(I wrote this drivel, by the way.)
2007-09-15
06:08:53
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6 answers
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asked by
Doc Watson
7
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry
A Poet's Lament (cont.)
Would our words aim towards a broader sight?
Would we express anger at the plight
of oppressed people, of greed’s forced pain,
hypocrisy’s evil and war’s gain,
or nature’s demise? Worlds gone insane?
If words are mightier than the sword
can’t personal anguish then afford
to stop itself from being so maimed?
Or does it somehow make us seem sane
that we secretly relish our pain?
2007-09-15
06:10:59 ·
update #1
Miss Madame, many are 'blinded' by love or 'blinded by the light' of love that let's the one's they love (the lovers) fool them. If you've been there you should understand this.
2007-09-15
07:02:16 ·
update #2