A Reflection
• 04/18/24 at 07:32AM •Moderation
is the answer,
to the results of
the excesses in
our short life.
Moderation
is the answer,
to the results of
the excesses in
our short life.
Dinking wine from bottles
or with glass in hand
makes me feel ecstatic,
makes me feel so grand,
until morning.
Be good to others,
"The good book reads."
yet here we are, engaged in war.
What is the life,
which we feel each day?
Should we join in
or find another way?
Hands of red,
heart of gold.
Telling this story,
will never get old,
unless our daily routine,
which is done in life,
is useless work,
with little strife.
When I was young
and very small,
I discovered,
a small door behind a wall.
The door about 3 feet high,
and 2 feet wide,
was found behind a wall,
in the basement, the right side.
The door with a door knob,
was locked, with a key.
No markings on the lock,
which I could see.
I played in the basement,
every day,
never seeing another
there to play.
One time, after dinner,
I'd gone to the basement.
I fell asleep, waking to
a sad lament.
I wish I knew someone,
I could play,
with, for I was lonely,
almost everyday.
The noise was coming
from the small door.
I knocked, saying,
please tell me more.
(continued)
It was silent,
without a reply.
So I knocked,
for another try.
The door swung,
open wide and inside
was a young boy.
His name was Clyde.
Clyde was small,
about like me.
He said he was from
across the Sea.
He was 18 years old,
about 10 years more than me.
We played together,
incessantly.
When I left, to go
away to school.
College was the
dividing rule.
Many years later,
I returned and went
to the small door,
behind the wall in the basement.
continued
Many years later,
I returned home,
and went to the basement,
where I found the door.
I knocked on the door,
it opened wide,
and there was my
old friend, Clyde.
He looked the
same to me,
a proud member,
of the Minihane.
Minihane, a small Hawaiian,
reported be from another
world, coming to Earth,
and part of Hawaiian Culture
and now of Hawaiian Legend.
Sometimes, historical events,
become a hysterical "bent",
when emotions, seize the day
and citizens, want to vent.
Talk to me about the agression,
you see in people's eyes,
just before they succumb,
and innocents dies.
What kind of world, do we live in,
when among the hues and cries,
and one side is in chaos,
while the other side dies.
She stood in front of me,
Sans clothing, just a stare.
A beautiful woman,
with long black hair.
My throat was dry,
for I was aware,
I couldn't speak about the woman,
with the long, black hair.
Have we become,
home to The Great Unwashed?
A society of lies and madness,
no matter what the cost.
Do enjoy your life,
which you have today
or are their times when,
you want to run away.
Should I retreat
and simply run away,
for there is nothing special,
to cause me to stay.
Sometimes, we are invited,
but we fail to see the note.
Sometimes, we applaud,
or actually have a vote.
Green was the grass,
near somewhere I'd be,
down by the river,
where you could find me.