Poetry of a different kind

Who is but a peasant

Who is but a prince

Birth has chosen

Without defense

Who receives mercy

Who receives pretense

Does birth

Set this sentence

Who shall suffer

Who reaps the reward

Who is the prisoner

Who is the steward

The line is drawn

A line not crossed

Oh how I hate the line

To be on other side

But with whom then would I reside

The golden coins

Of no resolve

Or the penniless

Of those evolved

12 thoughts on “Poetry of a different kind

    1. Yes. I can’t give it an emotion either. So many things I write come from a flood of emotion that comes from one tiny thought.
      I would LOVE for you to paint the photo just evoked a thought. It would look great as a painting!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I have often thought about our births. The Bible says God was there when we came out of the womb. He knew what my life was going to be. He assigned an angel to watch over me through life. Did it hurt him to see what my father was going to do to me? It must have, for he is love and loved me.

    My father used to say he would wet his pants when his father came home from work. But he never told us what his father did to invoke such fear. My father’s two brothers abused their children too. One committed suicide. He was a believer in God. I guess it is just how life is. I used to be very angry at God for the whole thing. But that’s a waste of time. I’m happier when I trust God knows what he is doing.

    I read the comments on your photo. It is funny, the first thing I thought was, “That should be in a magazine! And it would make a beautiful painting.


    1. I’ve always imagined God and the angels pained and crying to see what is happening. To see what your father did to him I am sure they fought and fought to try and make it stop but your father’s free will just let it happen and I do truly that they could not step in but I know it broke their heart to see you there and they were with you the whole time I do believe that.
      Oh thank you on the photo and the poem. I was just standing under it and boom the emotion came and then I just started to write and didnt really stop for a few days. Interestingly it came from great anger. All the poems did. I needed to channel it in a healthy way so I did


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