Poetry 'n Prose

The Everlasting III

It didn’t make a better man of him

or teach him right or wrong

It only taught fear,

how to hide it

and get along


It didn’t teach him love

(that being a novel point of view)

The anger already residing

there waiting

in situ


And now older (and colder),

he’s merely joins the queue

of those reliving

and burning

to do it back to you.

His only escape; a poetic vision,

one he didn’t grow out of,

despite your fists he learnt

ways to find

 a literal love.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

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