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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 05:52:27 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 132350
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Lesser of Two Evils?
[time] => 2007-03-03 23:51:41
[hometext] => Author's Notes: (Please use this area to write something about your poem
[bodytext] => Cain had a brother named Able Able had a brother named Cain And in the rain old Able sang about his suffering How he was prized and despised by everyone he knew Visualized and purified as fairer of the two And this Cain knew, and Cain felt bad, Able had asked him once before If he’d put him out of his misery so he wouldn’t suffer anymore To much dismay, and agony, Cain finally did agree Killed his brother willingly, went down in history as a picture form of jealousy Became banished, scorned and free And a book got it wrong till I came along; I just wanted you to know If loving is worth cursing you, I’ll curse you all night long A father drank his life away A life was drunk away by a father I’d not bother to tell you the details, but it might intrigue To know he was a war veteran, scholar and fatigued He’d sweat in seven factories, he’d drank a seventh of his liver down And around this town, he’d walk at night hollering at the ground One day he met a mistress, a phantom in a gown of white She’d made the night with her wrapped arms and let in all the light They married into ugly matrimony; it was all poorly played The lonely father tried raising three, he raised his life away So he skipped town, the boys cursed their last name But all the same, he did it for their sake So who’s to blame is still unclear for a risk that father’d take So I’m his defense, to much expense, I just have to say I’d rather not be treated then be treated the wrong way I’m writing a poem now Now a poem is writing me You see, it started as a memoir to a swiftly growing tree It has great roots; green leaves high, apples on its stems And when the wind whistles through I swear it’s branches cry But in all this majesty there is nothing I could write, to give you my sight To set things right, I can just record I’m bored, there’s nothing else to type so why not spend the time I can’t afford? Debating what’s evil and what’s true, what’s bitter and what’s blue, How a story can be wrong and an opinion opinion’s you So I see my tree, and suddenly, I get the facts in place Each drawing of a person displays a newer face, so judge well and not at all, Try to understand, but my friend you’ll fall Because If I see a tree and you’d rather see it chopped and gone You could be chopping me as I’m rooted all along [comments] => 2 [counter] => 214 [topic] => 68 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fictional )
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