"betrodden" poems
I mourn you for all
that was stolen
I mourn you for all
that was lost
I mourn you that
You were betrodden
Until nothing was
left that once was
Your life had
a beautiful reason
You can't be accused
of living in vain
Your days were made full
of goodness that's lasting
Yet the tragedy of all
that's about you remains
Cry me
because I'm here
without you
Cry you
because you're
gone far away
Cry We
that we lost
all We treasured
I mourn Your loss
forever somewhere
beyond my very last day.
-R.
6.23.17
-LA
-4MAR
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
I mourn you for all
that was stolen
I mourn you for all
that was lost
I mourn you that
You were betrodden
Until nothing was
left that once was
Your life had
a beautiful reason
You can't be accused
of living in vain
Your days were made full
of goodness that's lasting
Yet the tragedy of all
that's about you remains
Cry me
because I'm here
without you
Cry you
because you're
gone far away
Cry We
that we lost
all We treasured
I mourn Your loss
forever somewhere
beyond my very last day.
-R.
6.23.17
-LA
-4MAR
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
Inside the betrodden bunkers, the boys lay.
It's a new day. 6 am sharp they awaken with anticipation.
They rise and they march and they bustle throughout camp.
Where their boots break with stressed step. blackened and soiled.
and their singing ceases with a stony look. They stand straight now.
This order they chose,
and this colony they feed.
For its buzz beckons more than a simple salute.
At a weeks end they bring Busch and burgers and sit under a blanket of stars,
and they tell stories of belly dancers and sandy beaches and starlit skies and those big, stifling water bugs in the defact, and they're all grinning because sal's got the hiccups bad. and oh,
how yesterday that man, that boy, with the pacemaker, took his last breath swimming in the brooke.
they laugh it off.
And Busch's bubbles go down smooth,
and they wrestle and they sing, and they call their girlfriends baby.
and their girlfriends call them silly.
and everyone rolls their eyes.
until that buzz fades
and that sun ascends
and their girlfriends say goodbye.
and so, for now,
their clothes lay stacked of the same order and style.
and their body language is a bit broken and bored and still,
and they stand in solemn line
after line
after line
after line
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC