Rowan
04-13-2014, 02:56 PM
It's been a while since I wrote a poem, but this afternoon, this came crawling out of my pen, and I figured poems are made for sharin'. So I will be sharin'. =) Cheers! Lemme know what ya think!:smile5:
To the child that will one day be a me that I am now
Be kind. Be kind in a kind kind of way and be your own kind of kind,
Be gentle, and patient, and wield the two like nunchucks that will chug thunderclouds down the route of people that are trying to grow flowers, beat sunshine up and send it on its merry way to people that tire of shadow play, wield the two like you have meditated on top of a Tibetan mountain peak to now speak of your newfound freak-mystique of
kindness. Say thank you when they hand you a receipt, smile to people on the street, hold open doors until they will say you are a part-time piccolo
Be kind like, any-moment-now-Romans-will-nail-me-to-a-cross-kind. Turn your cheek so many times people mistake you for an owl, turn your cheek, so to speak, short of snapping your own neck
Be curious, adventurous, and dare to dare daring, dare to care where others get scared, dare to dare until it seems unfair and dare to love until that inevitable affair, dare to rise above the radar, be a star that from afar people will fax their wishes to
And know that my pride will be like a shadow, and that my pride will be like a stain you can’t quite remove, and that my pride will hide in everything that you do, even that
Tattoo.
Of the third love of your life. Or that stupid quote that the Dalai Lama never wrote
I will be proud.
And I sincerely hope you will be better at hide and seek than your old man.
And please prefer batman.
That is all.
To the child that will one day be a me that I am now
Be kind. Be kind in a kind kind of way and be your own kind of kind,
Be gentle, and patient, and wield the two like nunchucks that will chug thunderclouds down the route of people that are trying to grow flowers, beat sunshine up and send it on its merry way to people that tire of shadow play, wield the two like you have meditated on top of a Tibetan mountain peak to now speak of your newfound freak-mystique of
kindness. Say thank you when they hand you a receipt, smile to people on the street, hold open doors until they will say you are a part-time piccolo
Be kind like, any-moment-now-Romans-will-nail-me-to-a-cross-kind. Turn your cheek so many times people mistake you for an owl, turn your cheek, so to speak, short of snapping your own neck
Be curious, adventurous, and dare to dare daring, dare to care where others get scared, dare to dare until it seems unfair and dare to love until that inevitable affair, dare to rise above the radar, be a star that from afar people will fax their wishes to
And know that my pride will be like a shadow, and that my pride will be like a stain you can’t quite remove, and that my pride will hide in everything that you do, even that
Tattoo.
Of the third love of your life. Or that stupid quote that the Dalai Lama never wrote
I will be proud.
And I sincerely hope you will be better at hide and seek than your old man.
And please prefer batman.
That is all.