Playing through the changes.

The important picture,
that you held so dear,
like a favorite window,
in a stone-like year.

A rolled up portrait,
for another show,
follows me closer than we'll ever know.
------------------------------------------------------

Abolished the art club,
and sent them on home.
Kids call themselves b******s,
and their fathers dont know.

A necktie, an arrow,
a practical joke.
Smooth talking the jazz kids with an afternoon toke.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Lofted and loaded,
floats down with the breeze.
I hope you can save a few feathers for me.

Exploded, a shot gun,
coats all my needs,
angry enough,
bleeds anything.

------------------------------------------------------------------

But both ways it goes,
it ebbs and it flows,
it goes and it goes,
before anyone knows.

But I'll have my child,
and I'll make sure it knows.
The breeze is still sweet,
wherever it blows.

Reviews

[Sarusai Hiryu]

neat and even. A well written poem

[roarke]

interesting that you used dash breaks in the format. Dark, melancholy, a cosmic reminisce. the fifth and sixth stanza's break the rhythm, as physically that would. Strong statements, personal pictures well handled. Nice work.

[Junoh7]

That was really good! I especially liked the last part.