Ode on Stories

Thu, 11/08/2018 - 18:22 -- Tinysky

I pity the souls who fail to see

The wonder and beauty a story can be

Whether it be the delicate blots of black on crisp page

Or the utterings of grand tales around stone set ablaze

By the soft, dark-piercing glow of a moving picture-box

Or even with ear pressed against wood that is locked

A Whisper, A Rumor, An Account, A Tale

No matter my struggle, I always seem to fail

I am drawn to the emotions spilling forth like a summer’s storm

I will tell you exactly why these stories I adore:

 

The thick dreamy clouds of Imagination curling forth

Embracing you gently and floating away from the Earth

In the forget-me-not blue, there is no path to choose

You are along for the ride, relaxing in the white

New people to spend time with when others irk

New lives to live when others hurt

New love to experience when it seems none exists

New paths to tread when others are crowded and stressed

What a perfect paradise of scripture and thought

 

But of course,

One must not stay too long in this hoodwink of a haven

For even paradise has a sly, slinking snake

For these people are fake, or gone, or reside on Earth

Drift back down little cloud

Walk among the concrete

For though you deny it, life can be fleet

Invest time with loved ones

Enjoy each emotion while you can

Trapped in your own mind like a speeding jalopy

Never will it get you far

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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