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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1502275-Collected-Works
Rated: E · Prose · Other · #1502275
Three works on very different issues (titled: Youth, My Mutilated Body, The Pillars)
                ~Youth~


Being a meek and fickle thing
it's tough trying to shine from within.

I bid farewell to you today,
for I am complete in a deeper way.

I've seen you wonder from soul to soul,
depriving that which has made it whole.

These trivial and unaccustomed youth,
find pleasure in all that's less than truth.

To want that which conforms oneself,
embraces only greedy wealth.

Therefore their act of superior blase
is nothing more than a wry impasse.

Remember always what I say,
for I bade farewell to my youth today.

Always apart and never mending,
your life begins at your youth's ending.


          ~My Mutilated Body~


It's not fair that you sit and stare, while I lay contorted, burnt with despair.

The children all decorate and sign with love, but the actions you show sends not the message above.

I wail and yell and whimper and moan as I watch my dear parents crushed down to the bone.

Some accept that their distance consequates inaction, I say, thoughtful ignorance or mindless apprehension.

The world watches on with a willingness to help, no humanitarian ceasefire, cuts below the belt.

I think your trying to set the record straight, war crimes of genocide noone can contemplate.

But you need to know where the hypocrisy lies, an image speaks more than your mouth, ears or eyes.

I've seen for myself the old high walls of imprisonment, now newly menacing, hovering with unbridled significance.

My, how we've progressed, once a idle horse at a checkpoint, now steel played armanent fails to disappoint.

I laugh when I see the comparisons being construed, from a sign saying halt to the drawn hand being rude.

Relayed blightley through white phosphorous refutes, the dichotomy between war crimes and feighning misuse.

Duplicity by imitation does not wane our conviction, but rather you seem to transgress your own conception.

Let me regres to my charred and mutlilated body, which is often forgotten amongst the arguments and folly.

That though I may be the one to greet death today, my hope remains in mankind, albeit a long way.


                ~The Pillars~


I sit and I lay and I watch and I ponder
All the worlds astray while I pray in dark sombre.

To kneel and supplicate while all the people still rest
To learn and replicate what my mother knows best.

Why does she cover her hair, body and toes,
With garlands of dark fabric, God Likely knows.

I've waited many a long day for this moment,
In quiet solace and perpetual atonement.

To appreciate the sanctification of a fast,
And recognise those with a dark rampant past.

To abstain from all that seeks to undo my good deeds,
And to keep at arms length the foul language that heeds.

To pay selfless tribute to those of less fortune,
And remember that my wealth remains fickle as it bourgeons.

I raise my right index finger to the sky,
And call out His name with a reverent sigh.

To bear witness that He alone does exist,
As the soul creator of our worldly bliss

I'll be weary that he will surely consecrate,
The soul of all mankind on that last holy day.

And so I wait, vigilant to the injustice in life,
A single human trying to change our worldly strife.
© Copyright 2008 ~Mary A~ (marya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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