Bitter is the acorn
Poisonous to those who do not know its inner workings

Cute almost, in the early stages of life
Trying to survive in a world polluted with beings of strife

Majestic and beautiful with age
Coveted in ancient times, thought of as a sage

For one who love an acorn can confirm for me
You cannot just love the tree

You must first understand what truly makes it green.

It strikes us all
When times are still and the mind idle
From winter to fall
A snake in waiting, quiet and still

Waiting

While not the strongest emotion
It's presence is noticed nevertheless
If one is not full of devotion
It leaves its victims and annoying mess

For those lacking
Beware!!!
Boredom has begun its attack.

It differs from you to me
What is it?
I do not see.

Iv been told its clouds of strife
periodically pierced by rays of light
As if gutted by a knife
In a futile attempt to burn away the endless night

Another may believes life is rife with misery
Gilded in plates of mystery
In a subtle attempt to confuse those living day by day
Letting the limited time bestowed upon us fade away

A man named Norm thought life was a game
Played by those who thought the same
Money, greed, and a constant need for power
Leaves one alone
Surrounded by those who's thoughts long turned sour

What life is, we'll never truly know
If put on this earth by random acts of science
A man by the name of Steven thinks so

Some think people have and incessant need for compliance
Others, a yearning lust for rebellion and defiance

The things I know are no secret to you
I most certainly believe you already knew
Life isn't perfect
Life isn't fair
Life is most always worth living