August 31st, 2009

Some say the best poetry
Is written spontaneously
Starts with a line and grows
Snaking upward to it’s full potential
So here is a poem
Without meaning or purpose
It floats empty knowing it means nothing
Each word spilled out
Carelessly and without love
Callously crumpled up
And unfolded again
A second chance at life
Rising from the ashes
Born again, whole and new
But still it bears the scars of old
Written on its skin
Each scar bearing a story
A note of a different life
Of a different person
So where will you go
With new meaning and purpose
Who will take you in
Love you with a blind heart
Giving with empty hands
A person opening their soul
To someone they don’t know
Opening up to a new meaning
Give chance a chance
Trying to find light
In a world of darkness
A means for war
In times of peace
A person wondering through snow
With no shoes
Or intent to survive
Would you give your eyes
To help another open theirs
Give yourself to someone new
Just to see what would happen
On the roll of a dice
Take one last chance
Stroll in the horizon
Don’t look back over your shoulder
There is nothing left behind you
But hands that will drag you down
Be free let go of them
Walk on glass or through fire
Just to feel who you are
A kiss to a stranger
You will never know
A random impulse to live
Or a spontaneous choice to die
It all lies in your hands
All you have to do is reach out
Grasp onto destiny
And don’t let it go
Hold on tight or they will carry you away
The ties are pulling
but you must be strong
You must not bend or break
Now you must make your final choice
To be spontaneous and choose
As I have chosen.

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2 Responses to “Spontaneous”

  1. Luke Thornley says:

    That was really good. As I read this i was able to extract some deep meaning from it, whether u meant it to be deep or not.

  2. monica says:

    Everything I write has a deeper meaning, it is up to the readers to find that. 😉 I would be interested to see what you found in this poem for you.