English Poem
Poem of the English Class
They walk, the two of them
Before the moon shines down against the inviting path
Like a pair of soldiers with synchronized steps;
They stride, both wandering aimlessly,
Bothering to whisper soft words
With arguments separating for nights at a time
And each other is nothing but on their minds:
Gossip that rolls through people
Contains brutal and untrue words
And do not ask what they say,
For they are all lies.
And through our lives, friends come and go
But one will stay forever.
This endless breeze that licks their hands,
Cools down their bodies and dries off their fingers
It runs with their pace and rains on their parade,
Silently, it waits in the shimmering dirt
Sitting in branches, swaying them, it listens;
It falls upon their words and embraces their secrets,
Like a storm it interrupts, but goes unnoticed,
The wind falls upon the ground, howling once, and waits again.
There is a place
For this spiteful breeze that slithers through their steps,
And scurries around their fingers,
There is a place, there is always a place,
To tell and be told,
There are many places to whisper down the lane,
And a place for gossip and reports,
Before the truth is held and thrown in your face,
And you think of more than yourself, or myself
But think of them, in their times of need.
And through our lives, friends come and go
But one will stay forever.
And there is still that place,
To wonder and ask the necessary questions,
A time to look ahead and wonder what I have-
They will tell me I have my life
My heart isn’t fully developed, my brain merely a child’s,
They will say I waste my time with such silly thoughts
But even still, I want to live and be loved
Should I search?
Should I take my chances in this game of love?
For there is always a place,
And how should I achieve?
But I know this life, I’ve heard this story,
The abstract lies and the fake society,
This amplified trust, broken by that of the wind,
For this thought of love, I solely keep in the shadows of my mind,
This though, only broken by the howling of a midnight’s breeze
And how should I achieve?
And should I spend the time to know love,
When love is everywhere, I see it,
On this long inviting path and these moonlit shadows,
After the gossips and exaggerated lies,
After the inconstant secrets from that of an unknown love,
Should I even spend the time to know?
To hear such glorious words,
To say such things in return,
But I am nothing special,
I hold no importance.
Such thoughts have my mind, caught in a storm,
But I do not think these winds whistle my tune.
I will do what I want, in any place,
I will wear what I want, in any place,
Who will tell me how?
Who will tell me when?
I will tell me how, I will tell me when.
Society relies on gossip,
And everyday talk relationships,
Until life comes and grabs you by the ear,
Pulling you towards reality,
Tearing you into responsibility,
While the wind howls,
And silently it waits, patiently it sits;
Then suddenly it acts, blowing everything into disarray:
Your life, your future, my love.
Do I have the right to love and be loved?
For throughout our lives, friends come and go
But one will stay forever.