he is tall, and taller than me
fairer too, with a fatter purse
an allowance monthly, three
times mine, yet walking behind me
or alone, like a homeless beggar
about to fall on the road, hence
needing a stronger prop;
despite the schooling, the bigger
expense paid in full by the state
still he can neither count beans
nor make sense of the weed and wheat
in what he reads there on the slate
he can, for sure, see a dime on ground
even thirty feet ahead of him
but a sparrow on the fence front of him
always is black and will never be found
numbers dead and weapons of the world
war two, for sure, he knows it well, exact
facts and with assertive faith will proclaim
it too, but his potentials are a different world
© henry victor 22.08.2015
No comments:
Post a Comment