Old Stripes

by Dayran

 

 

 

 

Old Stripes is a teenager from another era,

He is also that rage in our passions today,

For he used to think with his passions,

A little like the aborigine in the forests,

Simple, naive and sweet innocence,

That intimated to itself as the world,

In the silent secrecy of his passions.

He was the mountains, the trees, streams,

He knew them all and was often curious,

The way others spoke as if it was theirs.

Poor old stripes, felt robbed and cheated,

In the most irascible way in the feelings,

He couldn't apologize for it, nor regret,

Felt idiotic for feeling that way finally,

Then walked away from it all, dropped out,

Wouldn't come back for all the tea in China,

But he did, when he realized something simple,

Yes he loved the world and thought,

The world loved him only and especially so,

But he figures he'll share it with everyone else,

He's another in the world of the living,

One individual in a sea of humanity,

But he knows now he is loved nevertheless.

She used to live alone, thinking that love is virtue,

He healed her and loved her for all she is,

And now, they share something quite special,

A heart that will open itself to disagreement.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Cole Hayley]

Beautiful and thought provoking. Egmatic and fragile.