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 Nov 2014 DSD
Isha Kumar
I am yet a child.
To me, the prettiest creature
will always be my mother.
Her dimples, a beautiful feature.

I am yet a child.
To me, my daddy is strong.
He is the smartest
and is never wrong.

I am yet a child.
To me, it is my little brother
who is my heart, my life
and still, a bother.

Though I'm growing up,
I'm still a child.
Unleashing my dreams
and letting them run wild.

But the dreams hit a wall
and I soon realize,
the world hurled at me
a shocking surprise.

The days become a terror.
The nights, even worse.
Such times made me think
everything's a curse.

I observe and wish
to stay the same.
To not grow up and
see everything as a game.

But lives are dynamic.
Everything shall age.
My eyes begin to open
and I calm my rage.

It is unfair,
the world we live in.
You neither lose
nor do you ever win.

Now, I feel grown up.
That I'm no more a child.
Gone are the days
when my dreams ran wild.

Yet, given a choice,
I shall choose no other.
It shall always be me,
my mummy, daddy, and my little brother.

For I may be grown up
but I'm yet a child.
Wise beyond my years
with my dreams, so wild.
I dipped my toe
in the inviting shallowness of the creek.

her muddy water
gurgled in joy

she stoked the fire of my desire

wove me dreams
with moonbeams

and I waded far on her

till the water rose
above my nose

death seemed close and nigh.

I didn’t die

drifted away on her

going stronger
growing weaker.

(so they say once you dip your toe
soon lose your way
in the muddy creek’s flow
)
 Nov 2014 DSD
Stephen E Yocum
I walk with a limp now,
Two of them in fact,
When I used to glide,
The strut of youth,
Was on my side.

Pain's now the game,
Moving more slowly
My worn knees are done.
The warranty you see,
has fully, finely expired.

Today they took MRI pictures
Of my knees, sized 'em up
For manufacturing,
A perfect, artificial fit.

Metal and plastic components to
replace my played out natural bone.
They assure me it will not hurt,
(Allegedly)  

Surgery they declare will,
eliminate the pain and put
a spring back in my step.

I'll settle for the absence of  
Pain with every step I take.
But, I'm pretty **** sure,
I'll never ever run again.

Even for we humans,
Built in obsolescence,
Is an unavoidable truth.

Man, getting old is really the *****!
Once we were gods,
thinking ourselves
bullet proof.
Played football,
jumped out of planes,
climbed, and skied mountains at will,
swam rivers and lakes, oceans blue,
rode motorcycles a hundred miles an hour.
Rode our selves hard and put our selves
up wet too many times, with no thought
given to consequence.
We were never indestructible,
we just thought we were.
Age puts everything into prospective.
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