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Saga of the Schoolboy
I thought I'd try and write about a modern theme in a really strict balladic style but it didn't quite work.
One sits in a furnished room
And listens to a teacher drone
“Exams are coming,they are soon
And you shall sit them all alone.”
He attends a carefree man
Who hushed a learned class,
As a youth, ev’rywhere ran,
Now, in life’s sad morass:
Five vanished minutes late
T’all talk he “Silent!” barks
“Question Sir? What is the date?”
Answering with “Smart remarks!”
“Please! Don’t tear my simple art!”
“The child could learn”(if only taught)
“Instead he’s drawing, being smart”
(All genii may yet be caught)
All just a page in the mind.
The guilty educator,
Despises the wide-eyed kind,
And fears to defile paper.
Another class, hero’s told
“You are, doubtless, young grown men.”
Here, taught English, moral code,
He knows that where the road may bend,
There! The great unmoving light!
Glinting in his eye sit suns,
Power, free for those with sight
Love that covers everyone.
As he steps into outside
Unwashed residue remains.
Those who loved and those who lied
Will he lose or will he gain?
Strolls into a sundered home
Woeful, slowful has a bite
Mom shouts in his ear alone
Dad’s dead dunk, so they don’t fight.
Chews his sandwich pensively,
Stares at Mom’s red, broken face
But cries inside. He’ll never see
Her smile again, or warm embrace.
What of father? Comatose,
Commits suerosicide,
Death knell tolled and only those
That met him for drink did cry.
And as he steps into outside
Unwashed residue remains,
My comrades.What ho, you guys?
Where do we go in this rain?
Those who loved and those who lied
Should he lose or should he gain,
“Matters not! It is tonight!
Our enemies have had their day!”
Like noble knights boys make war
Against peoples not their kind,
And inconsequent. Aren’t all
Mourners the ones left behind?
Sky pelts down in silver sheets
Not heeding Nature’s sweet bird call,
“In life death is not defeat
The weak need not be mourned”
And as he steps into outside
Our hero meets a foe.
It’s there, unnatural hell light in his eyes
Death-hatred that does not let go.
A residue remains today
Of that deciding time.
A wound! He’s weak, he’s down, he’s slain!
He’s seen the great and guiding light
And those who loved and those who lied
Are all but one and the same
‘Cept love it fights the wind and tide
So its sons may see their birth world tame.
“There is no loss! There is no gain!”
Bleeding he says to his victor’s eye,
“I’m weak and fearless, so’ll never be slain,
But you with fear in death shall die.”
__________________
Eat me
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