Array ( [sid] => 184601 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => A Diet of Red Pills [time] => 2017-10-30 15:34:13 [hometext] => Behind the curtain....it is all real. [bodytext] => Wind whispered knowledge to me,
so soft at first I did not see.
I thought I had to learn how the wind worked,
to know the moving parts.
I once offered up my pen to slay by one tiny cut,
until it dawned on me I was an ant,
and I had a role just fine by them.
For, against, take your pick
in a battle watched afar in merry jest
by those controlling strings, moving wind,
shaping cultures, nations, just to flex.
There was no battle ever fought,
a Light Brigade of children boasting metaled breasts,
happy ants to dance and kill, the blind,
with shiny trinkets bought.
Those who live like gnomes, away,
as Zeus would peer upon the earth,
let us rend and laugh, and fight and die,
to slake their greatest thrill;
to shape a planet, all for mirth.
Past pyramids crumbling in the sand,
before Ur rose and fell,
when clay and water mixed in birth,
giving rise to sapiens man;
when we rise up, so many ants,
mighty are we in our glass,
yet rage and pleas and cries
fall deaf on ears,
and so they shall until we pass. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 111 [topic] => 8 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AmericanTragedy ) Your Poetry Dot Com - A Diet of Red Pills


A Diet of Red Pills
Date: Monday, 30th October 2017 @ 03:34:13 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno
Wind whispered knowledge to me,
so soft at first I did not see.
I thought I had to learn how the wind worked,
to know the moving parts.
I once offered up my pen to slay by one tiny cut,
until it dawned on me I was an ant,
and I had a role just fine by them.
For, against, take your pick
in a battle watched afar in merry jest
by those controlling strings, moving wind,
shaping cultures, nations, just to flex.
There was no battle ever fought,
a Light Brigade of children boasting metaled breasts,
happy ants to dance and kill, the blind,
with shiny trinkets bought.
Those who live like gnomes, away,
as Zeus would peer upon the earth,
let us rend and laugh, and fight and die,
to slake their greatest thrill;
to shape a planet, all for mirth.
Past pyramids crumbling in the sand,
before Ur rose and fell,
when clay and water mixed in birth,
giving rise to sapiens man;
when we rise up, so many ants,
mighty are we in our glass,
yet rage and pleas and cries
fall deaf on ears,
and so they shall until we pass.

This poem is Copyright © invierno


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