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Old 05-01-13   #1
Atehequa

 
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: Somewhat surrounded by Forest
Posts: 212

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Enemies made, or who to befriend
The short time we have here on earth
Advancements we strive for until the end
Often more trouble than they are worth
What is to be had and that we claim
Regardless of one’s earthly title or name
Born as humans, we all die the same
No matter what one possesses or lacks

Concerned with what is below or above
One’s living to love while loving to hate
Loving life while never living to love
One cannot brush aside the hand of fate
Whatever is withheld, or to be received
The meaning of life, one has conceived
Questioned, doubted, or to be believed
Until free thought and expression is quelled

Writing what they feel in comfort or unrest
Pen upon paper obliging their individual flow
Experience and emotion inspires their best
Their true selves they shall come to know
Fanciful, fictional, or factual, it matters not
Be it from a court bard, or rhyming tavern sot
What one writes or recites is of the poet’s lot
Dangerously free having neither muse or master

The pen is not mightier than the sword
If one writes at a swordsman’s command
Not knowing a sharp blade can cut the cord
That tightly binds and stays the poet’s hand
Poetry has survived throughout long ages
Often recited for others, or read from pages
Outlasting kingdoms and tyrannical rages
Killing the poets will not make poetry die
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Old 05-01-13   #2
SunSister
Bog Fairy Fox
 
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Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: the Netherlands
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Looks to me like this belongs in Creative Writing.. It's good, but would be better suited to a different category than the newcower place.
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She had studied the universe all her life, but had overlooked its clearest message:
for small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.
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