Oh how it is, I wonder,
to smile at break of day.
And marvel at the flowers,
overcoming grey.
How can a simple flower
in the beauty of its play,
live a life of honor,
when all I do is flay.
Sad thoughts demand attention
this statue made of clay.
My consciousness demands it,
for I`m its chosen prey.
V
C 2005 Deabler, V.T.
10 comments:
I really like this one! Makes me want to go out and take some pictures of flowers in the graveyard, and have the colors against the gray stone.
Derek
http://journals.aol.com/deveil/CelebrationofMyExhistance/
Beautiful!
well done. judi
the saddness seeps out of this one
puddling on my desk.
Lovely and bitter sweet.
~ckb
I'm going to try to give you a break here ... I just learned ... Rollo May (one of your proclaimed favorites) focused on "the empty values of Western civilization, the frustration of our basic human needs for love and beauty, and the need to experience deep despair before creating meaning for life" (Kendler, 1987, p. 427).
V ... Your so definately extistential!
Vince
This was so poignant.
Always, Carly
What would you be if you had the choice not to be human? :)
thats awesome...another beauty
V- I really love your work. I cant express just how much.
Your poetry is always beautiful! :-) ---Robbie
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