I once knew this person Whose brain was a fish out of water Flipping and flopping Desperately seeking the sea, Yet farther and farther They flipped and flopped Away into a desert Light years from home The ocean They managed to stay Alive with all manner Of ill-suited substances That gave their lost mind the Illusion of liquid Little did they know they Were only driving Themselves Farther and farther from home I saw this poor fish Gasping for water So with gentle hands I placed it in a pail To no avail The fish flipped and flopped Its way back into the dirt So I built a nice pool and Placed my fish in there Again to no avail So I returned it to the tides Releasing it and yet Again to no avail I realized some fish Just don’t know how To live in water
Is it so strange To believe in An afterlife? That something greater Awaits us? Take the butterfly An egg Caterpillar = Man Growth = Death Chrysalis Butterfly Death is a cocoon, A stage to be completed Before being granted wings. Sure, the butterfly will die, But I am sure something awaits us.
My world is too small To write a poem I have traveled the earth And left the atmosphere But still my world is too small To write anything of great meaning For what is left to be said? In the grand scheme of things 10,000 years or more Everything will have turned over And my meager words Will have been forgotten All I hope is that they played A small role in creating something A little better A solitary domino An heirloom seed That will forever grow Its origins long forgotten So set your eyes past the stars As bright as they may be Set your eyes past the emptiness As dark as it may feel Past the farthest reaches of space And dream of what forever may be For that will hold more weight Than my frail, forgotten voice