Photo
You're married
With
What you want
On.

I have two books.
You
Asked them
The question...
Can you do it?

He said
Okay
As well.
You can do this.

I know for sure this won't end well,
At least for them, and not for me.
But if not me, then time will tell
And there's no telling how soon that'll be.

That impatience always comes
When you're rooting against someone.
I'd call it something you would know,
If I knew myself, to say how so.

Call me jealous, or something alike,
And in their shoes the sick get sicker.
So switch to vengeance, burning spite,
Should anger prove to **** me quicker.

A chance to say 'I told you so'.
Perhaps that's something that I'm owed.
Perhaps it's something that I want.
Perhaps it's really all I want.

And so I'll wait, and wait some more.
I'll wait and wait and wait and wait
And maybe by the end I'll know
If this is good or love or hate.

I know for sure this won't end well
And so I'll play the waiting game.
If all goes south, then I'm to blame.
I guess to them, it's all the same.

Oh, the great and mighty Dragonfly.
How he moves like no other,
How he fights like no other,
With any shark who would apply.

With any shark who would apply,
That great and mighty Dragonfly
Would turn their angles right around.
Before the ring, he’d beat them down.

From every foe, he’s seen esteem.
Astonished by his skill and poise,
And in the minds of men and boys,
He is the idol, hero, dream.

Those who’ve yet to see him fight
Have also yet to see the light,
That new-age light that’s sparked late flames,
And also snuffed unworthy names.

They say that Mr. Dragonfly
Has piles and piles of letters wrapped.
Letters and letters of envy trapped,
As many as of praise awry.

Contrarily, in his own mind,
He thinks eventually they’ll find
The rumors should be flipped around
And pedestal be taken down.

For when arena lights are off
Away from drunken cheer and quaff
Away from praise aside of scoff
The hero has no golden crown.

He has no talent to be praised,
No superpower to amaze,
But just a body, flesh and bone,
A mirrored face he’s never known.

Sometime between the dusk and dawn
I woke abruptly, and was gone
And miles away from house and street
And sprawling meadow at my feet.

It smelled of summers new and old
And glowed the color marigold
And like one weathered winter hut,
Was sheltered from the snow and cold.

My feet had been ahead of me,
So wasn't long till I could see
A tiny soul, tranquil and hush
As I waded through the brush.

I knelt and asked him for the time.
He told me it was time to go
and let the Mr. Sandman know
to whisk me back into the snow.