Forgive me for rhyming - I'm not particularly fond of that style of poetry, but it seemed to work at the time. (If anything, those of you who can't stand "actual" poetry that doesn't rhyme can finally read something with ease. *shakes head*)
Enjoy it.
"The Call"
Josh D. "Whitey" Blanco
I wonder sometimes what today will bring
I wonder naught at all
I wonder what delight will make us smile
and what terror will make us crawl
Each day lays waste to our lives
each passing moment ravaged and burned
the day goes on and we are abused
by fallacies we woefully earned
And will I sleep the day away?
I ask, and no answer will sound
betrayal, lust, deception, greed -
all in this truth can be found
So who? Who? What person would go
take our system; create it anew?
optimism yielded a lie of "many"
but the worthy solution? "Few."
A call is trumpeted afar and wide
so heroes will fall and rise
yet one person amongst the many
knows that this is all unwise
"Stay back," they say, "and let me say:
you're crazy, you bastard. You are."
I respond back with a knowing nod
and admit defeat is all but far
Yet stand we must, and stand tall we shall
to defend our rights for a tomorrow
for when the time comes to answer our crimes
we shall, but without sorrow
So buck up, rise, take flight to the skies -
we are at war with the world
and to achieve justice, truth, victory, peace:
we must face what we unfurled.
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Does it mean anything? Does it signify struggle? Our desire to overcome it and net peace? Or am I just mindlessly blathering about nothing and made it tangible enough to read? The answers are up to you, the reader - which is what poetry does, in a way. It makes you think sometimes via an eloquent method of prose presentation.
Well... I'll catch y'all tomorrow. For now, I got work to do. See ya'.
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