"suitable" poems
Come to a garden of roses with me,
Serene it is fuller with roses to see,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
We shall not try to pluck any roses,
For the thorns dissuade any poses,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
We can't sit guarding the flowers,
Very busy in our mini lives we're,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
*I'll set-up a flaming ring of fire,
Seeking fine protection for them,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.*
Let's care for the roses as if our,
As if our little & young children,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
To help us get them blue & red,
Give them all suitable nutrition,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
Their presence is eye-pleasing,
We let them be in our garden,
They are here,
For you & me,
But just to see.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 1:52 AM UTC
With this pen, I paint an image of you.
Not a portrait, but a true portrayal of you.
The ink flows into words that dance across your hair.
The end of each sentence marking a cross that you bear.
A painting would be suitable for some.
With beautiful colors, cascading down on you from above.
But, those colors mearly hide the truth behind your smile.
With the right shade of light and a light smear, it becomes a cosmetic fix for a while.
My words flow through every crack and fill every shadow.
They bring all light to the surface, for the reader to see within the shallows.
The image of you that I create can be vivid and great.
But with this pen, my words can also design your fate.
You see the truth here is that my words hold all truth.
They leave no place for lies to hide, with each word holding proof.
In the readers eyes, my words are you…
With this pen, I can create you…
With this pen, I can finish you...
- Brandon K. Stephenson
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
I took the left path where hydrangeas grew and sleepy primroses under woods, edged shady trees.
The empty stream ran quietly dry
With grass cuttings piling high.
If one peeped, one would find tiny creatures
To cast a sparkle here and there, a delight.
So on tip-toe, with sandels bent
Up high I reached to take
The plastic fairy as she twirled a pirouette
In a theatre made by chance.
Reflected in a silver mirror intwinned with ivy branch
A mottled foal tends his dreams and Chrismas robin chirps.
My brother took the right hand path where the trees grew fruit
Ripe berries from the gooseberry bush bulged their prickles.
Dangling from hawthorn now a cowboy with a hat
Looking for his fellow Indian with the yellow back sack.
Sheep gather in a hollow, dark, protected from the sun
And Mr toad, now lost of paint, has turned a bit glum.
And so we leave our woodland friends and travel up the slope
Winding round the rose bed and goldfish where they float.
Then up we climb, the middle route, to jump the pruned clipped
Hedge.
The lawn divided in two halves, a contemporary taste.
Now we're nearly at that place where if one was to turn
Could see down across the land
To the sea and sand.
Of all the beauties that I've known
Nothing beats this Island home.
Love Mary x
My grandfather’s retirement bungalow was in Totland Isle of Wight.
It was named Innisfail meaning ‘Isle of Ireland’.
Behind, the garden led down to magical and delightful to children who came as visitors. My grandfather would prepare this woodland with some suitable surprises.
The garden and woodland deserved its own name and in retrospect
Is now named ‘Innislandia’ to suggest a separate, mysterious land.
Beyond the real world.
In the poem A Country Lane on page 8 the latched gate is the back gate to my grandparent’s garden and bungalow in Totland as above.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
To the girl who thinks it will be awkward because she rejected me
I had an interest in you not only because I saw you as a suitable mating partner
But because there are some decent ******* human beings in this world who actually want to get to know each other
So just because you said no to a date with me doesn't mean you have to erase me from your life's history
But getting to know someone is like opening a random box, you don't know if it will be a diamond ring or a dying rose. something that once was, but not meant to be beautiful, just like my intent to get to know you
And I carry my intentions around in my pocket so I can drop them off at your door and walk away when you don't open it
I'll leave them behind in case you ever want to see what's on the other side, but just like the rose if you wait too long something that once was beautiful will wither away.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
Your smile.
.
endlessly,
my heart searched
for a vibe on another
heart with which to
resonate and found none.
finding none, it wandered endlessly like
Infra-red rays seeking a
suitable tempo upon which
to strike an interference.
i wandered in search of a fertile
land in a heart upon
which to grow seeds of
love, my head burrowed
deep in a shell of
restlessness...
.
but on that fateful day,
too-good-to-be-true was
your smile--- it caused
my eyes to twitch,
borrowed a beat from my heart, transforming my
thoughts to an ode-- a
prelude to better days
.
i still see that smile,
lucid--- your lips opening
like windows of love,
revealing shiny white
louvres of beauty (teeth)
which opened to your
tongue-- a valley flowing
with sweetness as it
goes down your palate
like a parting curtain
welcoming love... then
you said "hi".
.
this friendship began with a smile,
it deepened with the " hi"
.
i have tapped from the
happiness let out from
the windows of your heart--
your smile..
my heart no longer wanders, in your smile,
it found rest
.
my greatest wish is
to make this smile mine
someday,
plant a kiss on your lips,
the happiness that
dwells in there becoming
a remedy to my malady.
.
.
Chukwudera Michael
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
critical thinking
as you call it;
that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.
you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.
sounds
quite simple -
common sense.
simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.
but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same
I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.
I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.
if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.
if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.
and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.
instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.
yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.
and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.
I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.
but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.
you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;
which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
To future conquering civilizations
in galaxies far far away . . .
don't worry about polluting the air,
our smokestacks have shot dirty-bombs
into the clouds for centuries,
mixing rain drops with the
black grime of industrialization,
transforming our children's tears
into cesspools of sulfuric acid and ddt.
We've also drained the bayous and swamps
and between you and me
don't even bother landing in Africa
there isn't suitable drinking water
for miles, you see.
You can thank years of colonization for that.
In fact, you may not want to land
on Mondays, Tuesdays, or Thursdays
in LA either-
on those days the air quality index
is 175 and far too unhealthy for any
biological organism to survive.
But at least you won't die of malnutrition
you've got decisions:
McDonald's or Burger King
choose
cholesterol and diabetes are your shock troops.
Send them in immediately,
there won't be much resistance
we've got these things call lazy boys
and daytime t.v which have
enslaved the population and decreased
the distance
between fully functioning
human beings and mindless apes.
Don't worry about bringing weapons
we've got those too
we've perfected the art of blowing each other away
there's not much for you to do.
we destroy cities with fire from the sky
and our mushroom clouds rise
at least ten miles high.
And god can't see, there's too much smoke
in his eyes
and our radiated children die
with radiated sighs.
While we are on the topic
don't worry about us spreading
propaganda
we've lost the ability to communicate.
We've learned
books turn a peculiar dark yellow
when lighted and burned.
And forget erasing history,
we've done that too.
Our subjugation of native peoples
is masked as 'patriotism'
under the red, white, and blue.
But don't get me wrong,
I tell you all
of this not to dissuade,
please come and attack,
please come and invade.
Here, I'll even turn
on the lights . . .
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:06 PM UTC
My heart bears an unfamiliar rhythm,
Restricted, out of key, tone and voice
Silent but still heavily felt
Craving the glimpse of your presence
Absence makes the heart grow fonder and fonder and fonder
Craving a presence I cannot feel but only dream
Holding on to an idea, a wish, a memory
An ocean dehydrating inside of me for reality to occur
But still my vision of you is blurred
Because an idea seems more real than any reality
I create heightened pieces of you in my heart
Yet my mind is not fooled but can clearly see
That You are just an imagination of my desires
And in reality you are nothing more than a simple acquaintance
Not suitable for even the smallest measure of love from my soul
Yet it's not love I feel but passion
Not you but elements of you
Yet the battle between my heart and brain
Make my feelings harder to comprehend
Absence makes the heart grow fonder and fonder...
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
*Tazaad-e-Jazbaat Mein Ye Naazuk
Maqaam Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**In contradiction of these emotions if that
Delicate moment unfolded - then what would you do?**
*Main Ro Raha *** Tum Hans Rahe **
Main Muskaraya To Kya Karo Gay*
**I am weeping and yet you are jolly
But if I smiled - then what would you do?**
*Mujhe To Is Darja Vaqt-e-Rukhsat
Sukun Ki Talqeen Kar Rahe **
**To me at this time of farewell
Instructions of tranquillity you are offering**
*Magar Kuch Apne Liye Bhi Socha
Main Yaad Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**But have you any thoughts for yourself?
If you recalled me - then what would you do?**
*Abhi To Tanqid ** Rahi Hai
Mere Mazaq-e-Junun Pe Lekin*
**For now there is criticism
On my state of madness but**
*Tumhari Zulfon Ki Barhami Ka
Sawaal Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**If scattering of your tresses is
Questioned - then what would you do?**
*Tumhare Jalvon Ki Roshni Mein
Nazar Ki Hairania Musallam*
**Within the splendour of your light
Is complete amazement of sight**
*Magar Kisi Ne Nazar Ke Badle
Jo Dil Aazmaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Nevertheless if someone in return
Tested your heart - then what would you do?**
*Utar To Sakte ** Paar Lekin
Ma Aal Par Bhi Nigah Dalo*
**You can disembark across but
Take a glance at the result too**
*Khuda Na Karda Sukun-e-Sahil
Na Raas Aaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**God has not made a peaceful shore
If nothing suitable appears - then what would you do?**
*Kuch Apne Dil Par Bhi Zakham Khao
Mere Lahoo Ki Bahar Kab Tak*
**Take some wounds on your heart also
Season of my blood until when?**
*Mujhe Sahara Banane Vaalo
Main Larkharaya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Those in need of my support
If I show hostility - then what would you do?**
*Abhi To Daman Chura Rahe **
Bigar Ke Qabil Se Ja Rahe **
**For now you are leaving my hand
And you are parting away from Qabil**
*Magar Kabhi Jo Dharkano Mein
Sharik Paya To Kya Karo Gay*
**Yet sooner or later within your heartbeats
If I became a associated - then what would you do?**
— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Poet Qabil Ajmeri, Sung by Sabri Brothers
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 5:48 AM UTC
I find myself changing as nature does- recklessly and suddenly without notice, and nature is what I come back to in order to heal.
Fires are often looked at as destructive forces,
And they surely can be, but they can also
Rejuvenate. Contrary to popular belief, fires most
Often leave a beautiful aftermath. Some examples
Being that certain plant seeds only germinate after
A fire, new growth is accessible to animals for food,
minerals are returned to the soil, and
Although many animals are stripped of their
Homes- this vacancy creates suitable areas for
New species to settle. Similar to how a fire
Cleanses the land it nearly destroys, a traumatic life
Experience allows an individual to undergo a necessary
Amount of growth and change. Whether what we take
From a situation leaves us aching or allows us to reflect,
We will always unknowingly benefit from the pain. I do
My best to keep this at the forefront of my memory when
Reminded of the baggage I carry. My healing will continue. and I will make a promise to myself that for every new fire that disseminates through/over my life, I will make amends with it
And allow for it to change me in the best way possible.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
Kung walked
by the dynastic temple
and into the cedar grove,
and then out by the lower river,
And with him Khieu Tchi
and Tian the low speaking
And “we are unknown,” said Kung,
“You will take up charioteering?
“Then you will become known,
“Or perhaps I should take up charioterring, or archery?
“Or the practice of public speaking?”
And Tseu-lou said, “I would put the defences in order,”
And Khieu said, “If I were lord of a province
“I would put it in better order than this is.”
And Tchi said, “I would prefer a small mountain temple,
“With order in the observances,
with a suitable performance of the ritual,”
And Tian said, with his hand on the strings of his lute
The low sounds continuing
after his hand left the strings,
And the sound went up like smoke, under the leaves,
And he looked after the sound:
“The old swimming hole,
“And the boys flopping off the planks,
“Or sitting in the underbrush playing mandolins.”
And Kung smiled upon all of them equally.
And Thseng-sie desired to know:
“Which had answered correctly?”
And Kung said, “They have all answered correctly,
“That is to say, each in his nature.”
And Kung raised his cane against Yuan Jang,
Yuan Jang being his elder,
For Yuan Jang sat by the roadside pretending to
be receiving wisdom.
And Kung said
“You old fool, come out of it,
“Get up and do something useful.”
And Kung said
“Respect a child’s faculties
“From the moment it inhales the clear air,
“But a man of fifty who knows nothng
Is worthy of no respect.”
And “When the prince has gathered about him
“All the savants and artists, his riches will be fully employed.”
And Kung said, and wrote on the bo leaves:
If a man have not order within him
He can not spread order about him;
And if a man have not order within him
His family will not act with due order;
And if the prince have not order within him
He can not put order in his dominions.
And Kung gave the words “order”
and “brotherly deference”
And said nothing of the “life after death.”
And he said
“Anyone can run to excesses,
“It is easy to shoot past the mark,
“It is hard to stand firm in the middle.”
And they said: If a man commit ******
Should his father protect him, and hide him?
And Kung said:
He should hide him.
And Kung gave his daughter to Kong-Tchang
Although Kong-Tchang was in prison.
And he gave his niece to Nan-Young
although Nan-Young was out of office.
And Kung said “Wan ruled with moderation,
“In his day the State was well kept,
“And even I can remember
“A day when the historians left blanks in their writings,
“I mean, for things they didn’t know,
“But that time seems to be passing.
A day when the historians left blanks in their writings,
But that time seems to be passing.”
And Kung said, “Without character you will
“be unable to play on that instrument
“Or to execute the music fit for the Odes.
“The blossoms of the apricot
“blow from the east to the west,
“And I have tried to keep them from falling.”
4.6k
ᗩIᑎᕼᗩᖇᗩ
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Ainhara is standing in her Queen's room,
staring at the door that leads to
her chamber
'My Lady...' she thinks worried before
looking at her reflection. Her mistress had
surprised her a gift of a finely made dress
of rose-silk, making her a flowing vision
in blue.
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
The dress is suitable for the bright and
hot morning, light, airy and delicate
with one shoulder that is heavily beaded
with peacock feathers; the slit reveals
her slender legs, the hip appliqued with
the white lilies of her Queen's Kingdom,
and simple flat shoes.
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
Her fiery locks are pinned into her usual
bun. It is then that she hears a gentle
knock on the door which she approaches
and opens.
"Did you not hear the command of the
Queen Mother?" Ainhara gently hisses,
"Queen Lyn is not to be disturbe-"
"I know, Lady Ainhara, I apologise,"
a guard whispers as Ainhara stands in
the hallway.
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"How is Queen Lyn?"
*'Drained and exhausted. She has not slept
well in three days...* "The Queen is very busy.
She is determined to complete the tasks set to
her." Ainhara sighs. "Esshi is overseeing her
meals currently. Did her mother not say all
matters of state should be brought to her?"
"Yes she did, but the shipments are set
to arrive today. And she said that once
they arrive, I am to notify you.
They have made way to the Western
Entrance."
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"I see. Well, let us see to it."
"Yes," The guard bows and leads the
way with Ainhara at his heels.
As she passes the open stain-glassed
windows, the cool breeze hit her,
making her dress flutter behind her
and the beadery shine and glitter.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
This small green bear,
your name embroidered on its chest,
was never yours. It would have been
our Christmas gift to you,
had you lived a month longer.
The ones you would give
you had already bought,
wrapped, labelled -
thoughtful, organised
to the end,
to the bitter end.
We unwrapped them on the day,
smiled at your kindness,
wept at our loss.
Early Christmas gifts
that you had not organised,
that nobody could have anticipated,
went to strangers: your pancreas,
a life free from daily injections;
your kidneys, two lives free from dialysis;
your liver, divided, to a young girl
and an older lady, who would
quite simply have a life
they had almost given up hoping for.
Your heart, damaged by extended life-support,
not suitable for transplantation,
yielded its valves
to repair the damaged hearts of others.
Even bone and skin were harvested
for people you never knew.
That Christmas you gave hope
to so many people,
and to us the consolation
that they live on because of you,
and that you live on in them.
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
viewer discretion is advised. The following program has graphic images that may not be suitable for all audiences
The television stains my eyes
I can barely see myself in the mirror
While steady reporters shed not one tear
Don't you see the dead behind you?
Don't you feel the pain of their families
While you just "tell the story"?
27 dead, most of which young children, in a school shooting
The sickness creeps into my bones
Its impact rattles my spine
Debilitating me, confining me to a stupor
Why? Why?
Why end such bright futures and presents?
Do you not see the damage that you've done?
Do you not feel the blood pouring from
Your own body? Do you?
back to you, overpaid talking man
A three minute blurb
That's it
Hundreds of people have been forever changed
Millions more afraid
And all you can do is harass them
Beg for interviews
While they still are in disbelief?
But beyond that
You show it over and over and over
All with the political lean
Of your respective stations
Could you not stop for once
And let mourners mourn?
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
have you ever loved someone so much that simply saying “i love you” can’t even express how you truly feel?
have you ever loved someone for their heart, not for who they pretend to be?
have you ever loved someone so much that a thousand poems and ten thousand songs aren’t suitable for conveying your love?
have you ever truly loved someone so much that a simple day with them is infinitely better than an extravagant day with anyone in the world?
have you ever truly loved someone so much that you don’t need to change yourself in order for them to love you?
because only then is when you know you truly love someone
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
to ones wronged or irked by some stupid bullsh#t
and who may have an itch to do some ruin—
—ation, e.g., shoot some bullets
all the imprudent bullies
and corrupt ****** contributing to in—
—justice will do as ones to subject to a punishment
[mafias & agents of authoritarian regimes]
and if you are one of 'em
a few words regarding your funeral
[if there will be one]
hope it will be at odds with the usual
it should be a carnival to the bone
whether or not that is suitable
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 9:56 AM UTC
We are all sinners Simply we're human beings ... Repentance's door is greatly open to All of us anytime,anywhere,and everywhere ... Those who insist on going on ,then Hell will be their suitable place ... Heaven was created by God For those who do good deeds anytime ... Repentance's door is widely open to all sinner Simply Because God is Great and Merciful ...
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
Names are funny.
Have you ever wondered what your name would be if your parents didn't name you?
I'm one of the lucky few
that know.
If my parents didn't name me,
my name would be
Timothy.
You see, apparently,
when two people love each other,
Mommy cheats on Donny
with daddy and all three
demonize the baby.
Unfortunately,
abortion isn't an option.
Poor Donny believes
his little Johnson
made a tiny Willie
but really
it's Mike's Rick.
The trick wasn't revealed
until
Donny signed the birth certificate.
Obviously, Karen's husband abandoned their family.
Mike ripped his love from her and gave it to Dominique.
Karen,
twice-scorned,
mid-divorce,
postpartum,
decides a shelter isn't suitable for a nameless infant.
At this point, it's a little too late for abortion.
Nowhere to go,
knowing she can't stay,
Adoption became the practical option.
The noxious auction caused a nauseous reaction to her conscious. Karen picked the option, least pompus, with the most promise. An intuitively honest Christian was brought to her room so she could sign the synopsis.
As she's reviewing the terms of this blood oath, she glances at both of the parents cradling her second baby boy. They turn and ask
"What is his name?"
"I don't know. I thought he was going to be a she so I had the name Sade."
"That's ok, we have a perfect name in mind. Timothy."
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:26 PM UTC
My mother once told me I was adorable.
She said so with a light smile and a soft voice.
I was young and impressionable,
And forever thought -I was adorable.
My friend once told me I was pretty.
She said so with a wide smirk and a sour tongue.
I was young and somewhat twiggy
And never thought -I was pretty.
My love tells me I am very beautiful.
He says so with a caring grin and a loving tone.
I am young and quite suitable
And often think -yes, I am beautiful.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
I don't know what I am anymore
I'm too self obsessed not to care
as if I don't pass by a mirror every hour and stroke my ****** hair
standards of cis normativity never make sense
they don't make sense more than ever
why be like everyone else
when I'm already the outcast
whats the point to stop expression
whats the point to stop..my expression?
of my experience
of my encounters
of my existence
my identity will be radical
with or without cis validation
my happiness is resistance
with or without standards
we were not meant to fit in
so outgrowing it is suitable
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 9:57 PM UTC
It was my best friend who asked me
what I'd choose to be in my next incarnation.
Honestly, she caught me completely off guard,
intellectually dumbfounded by a prospect
I'd never considered, nor felt I deserved.
That night I wracked my brain searching for
a suitable chakra from which to derive an answer.
I know she believes everything is renewed,
so, deferring to her convictions,
I chose a jaguar, as suitable for my solitary way.
She's always had a knack for surprising my existence,
deflecting the metaphysical, steering for spiritual shores.
I recognize this power she exudes, though she dismisses me.
The jaguar I'm evolving divinely subsumes her virtues,
is cognizant of the heroine from Mumbai ashrams.
I'd like to tell you I hear rumblings in the sky,
that there's a certain path beneath my feet,
but my destiny eludes all outward signs,
striving for that inner love that has no name.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Nothing dies, it bursts to birth
Before the requiem is half done,
Before the suitable tears are shed
Or the mourning of the underbred
Nags out its course, the death is dead.
The sighs shoot into the long trombone
It blows so hard it shakes the earth.
The flowers in a breathless rush break through;
If one has collapsed, then out spring two,
Insatiable for things to do.
It is unnecessary to atone
For sin: he is the losing one;
With all his conjuror's cheap disguise
No geese fly north because of his lies
No cause is lost, and nothing dies.
3k
A tale,
Of two pals,
Ego possessed the former,
Self-respect imbibed the latter.
The former faced problems, complained;
The latter solved problems, smiled.
One, choosy and demanding;
Other, suitable and acceptable.
Fortunately,
Acquiring jobs,
In a corporation,
Standing at the threshold
Of promising careers,
Days rolled on
And the day arrived
For promotion.
Self-respect surpassed,
Ego lagged behind.
Thoughts converted into self-realization,
Truth revealed.
Ego satisfied merely the senses
"I want this" and "I want that"
Self-respect implied acceptance
"I respect this and I accept that."
To further proceed,
To reach the summit,
'I' and 'my' be discarded,
'We' and 'ours' be adopted.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC