The walls that you build
to keep others out
can only stand so long
before casting their doubt.
And when the time comes
for these walls to topple down,
be sure that you stand clear
so in the rubble you won’t drown.
But will you know for sure
which side the ruins will fall?
Will you be trapped forever
in a world you made so small?
Life in the fast lane
is better than they say
since the scenery changes
every single day.
The more places you can see
and the more people you meet,
will fill your life forever
with possibility.
The moment you slow down,
you can just dig your grave
since a dormant life
will keep you as a slave.
The last time you called,
I cut the call short.
I had too much to do
and you, too little to report.
Shortly after the call,
you would never call again
since Death called on you
as he does on all men.
Some regret I should feel
or even sorrow since you passed,
but the only thing I feel
is an emptiness that will last.
Twigs snap in a haste
as you struggle through the chase;
best pick up the pace.
Three tail lights ahead,
two eyes and a nose of red,
suddenly brighter with dread,
hopefully the tires have tread.
As they screech to a halt,
one rider pounds the asphalt,
never knowing who is at fault,
for this accidental assault.
I look at you with her
and think how great it is
that I dodged a bullet,
since not too long ago
I wore her shoes.
I look at you with her
and I feel nothing like love,
no remorse,
just pity for another soul
you duped.
I look at you with her
and I wonder what she sees
since now my eyes are open
and I will never be the same.
I look at her with you
and I think,
karma does exist.
I sit, I watch, I wait.
You stare, you eat, you scurry.
I crouch, I tense, I wait.
You groom, you wonder, you worry.
I pounce, you run.
I chase, it’s fun.
You hide, I wait,
not on time, but on fate.
“Let it be so,”
her voice boomed
this command.
And with one fell swoop,
she destroyed all the land.
“For too long
they have taken
and not returned
the fruit of the earth
and then leave it burned.
From this point on,
let it be known,
that She is not
something you own.”
The windows shattered
and the ground shook
as the rain pattered
hitting every nook.
The ground split
and the seas rose
and life ceased
as the book closed.
“And it is so,”
a mere whisper in the dark
just waiting,
waiting,
waiting
for a
spark.
This brief candle
has been flickering all too long
just holding out,
hoping the Scot was wrong.
The sound and fury
have overstated their stance
by this fool of a woman
who has wasted every chance.
It’s true that this tale
needed desperately to be told,
but if no one will listen
it’s soon tainted with mold.
The hour is up
and the crowd must go home
since there is no significance
to an unread poem.
Cold and bitter,
lashing away,
making flesh raw.
Colors change
as life departs
on a one-way trip.
Dark and dreary,
a blanket of night,
making eyes blind.
Wounds won’t heal
as deep as bone,
all alone.
Autumn Siders 