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Perdue Poems Sep 2019
Wallowing Wisdom stood widowed
with none to carry her bags across the busied road
heavy were Wisdom's bags, and wide was the street
who would want to carry widowed Wisdom's load
For Wisdom was old and Wisdom was slow
who would help the widow
Many ran by Wisdom not noticing her bags
their eyes were sharply focused on the sidewalk ahead
some passed Wisdom by without a second glance
others stared in pity but left for better circumstance
a few did stop to heave Wisdom's bags
only to feel their suffering arms dropped them in the road

In certain happenstance, there appeared another woman divine
who's eyes shined, her beautiful smile wide
many clamored to her side
pondering the name of radiant light
"Happiness" said she, many approved
a fitting name for a fitted love
the throng extended down the road
helping with her bags
how light were they!
Hearts yearned for Happiness
adored around the world
for she was ever-lovely
emptied pockets paid
what a wonderful commodity
The Happiness Company
Inc.

Widowed Wisdom stood alone with heavy bags in hands of old
on she walked alone and dragged her bags of gold
Wallowing widowed Wisdom wept and cried in anguish
her screams ripped through busy streets
on middle road, she lay fallen on her knees
wishing she may have her company
but too many forget
too many ignore
wailing Wisdom
on the road's floor
Perdue Poems Apr 2019
to what shall I write on an empty day
when skies are grey
when I feel no play
within my soul
to whom can I write ink on pages
in dark ages
while rage is
within my soul
to when will I write stories of old
when all is told
when I feel mold
within my soul
Oh! Why should I write about inside emotions
disturb unchecked notions
and increase commotion
within my soul

do I dare defy my mind's pristine palace?
with challenging concepts
with wild words
to shake the foundations
within my soul
do I wish to write words true?
or explore ideas new
or release the twisted tortures
trapped deep
within my soul
do I hope for exultations?
congrats and celebrations?
for words wandering in my mind
while words lost weep
within my soul
do I do or do I die
do I tell truths or do I tell lies
do I hide or do I show
the words I know
within my soul

All I wish to see
is some melody
pour upon the pages
while the pitcher in my heart
remains unpoured
within my soul
All I wish to do
is draft divine brews
with ingredients inquired
from the world around
rather than pieces profound
within my soul
All I wish to be
is a virtuoso visionary
whose name is heard around
the world tenfold
while the true tenderness remains
within my soul
All I say I misconstrue
to bury what I knew
could never leak upon the papers
of the world
and keep my paper heart locked
within my soul

But if my pen's ink
came not from where I think
but from my chest where my heart beats
and the words I write
came not from nature's daylight
or from words announced from other's lips
but from wells
within my soul
might I find
though not celebrations
perhaps personal thanks
and reconciliation
for myself
and frustrations found
within my soul
Write what's real

— The End —