Out on a Limb

2/24/08

Today I left to security of quiet and walked out on a limb

Then opened my mouth

When will I learn that I cannot talk and climb at the same time?

I always end up with ‘my foot in my mouth’

I came tumbling down among the tarnished crowns

That I have saved for myself

Who do I think I am? That’s it! I do not know

Who I am or what I am!

Earthquakes in my soul shake the tree I try to climb

I hang on but barely

I want someone to help me but who do I trust?

I’m afraid I can’t get back or can’t go forward

Stuck comes to mind

Trapped out on this limb of my own making

Choices I made becoming the fruit of my life

I’m just me and not very good fruit right now

Picked to soon then hit by the bitter frost of reality

Robbed of nutrients to grow beyond myself

I don’t even know what kind of fruit I am

Am I a pear? Am I a peach?

Or am I an inedible useless thing

That looks and acts like real fruit?

Or am I only an imitation of someone else’s idea of me?

I guess I’ll just fall to the ground

And nourish someone else’s tree

So they can be proper fruit

With out feet to crush me

For he can do no wrong

Imperfect comes to mind

Pruning away the cause of the damage

Might be the only option

For now I must be really quiet while

Out on this limb for he might hear me

And throw a rock at me

That will hurt and leave a bruise

Bruised fruit soon rots and decays

Gives up or let’s go

I just don’t know! How do I fix this?

 

 

Uncaring

February 2008

Rude would be the word for the day

Uncaring tones of cruelty for unseen reasons

Excuses would be another word

What is the excuse to be so mean to Innocents?!

Why not slap them with your hand-NOT

Recovery would be swifter than from

The cutting barbs of a hateful tongue

Love dies under such weights of darkness

That dwells in one’s soul

Seeping out to attack unseen and unexpected

Enemies of these tender ones

But no matter to you!

Your deed has been accomplished

You have reigned above us

Spurned by you to no end

Hovering about in a trance most of the time

Then spearing from the deep recesses

With your hurtful remarks

No wondering about the intent

For love did not speak but hatefullness

Planted it’s seeds

Now you must reap the consequences

Of what you said

Time will take you on and win!

 

 

 

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