The Gold-Painter

Would you let me have a look?
In that old brown backpack
That's weighing on your shoulders
Maybe I'll find gold for you

Would you let me take out the gold?
And show it to your weary eyes
And by that motion of joy
Make your pack a little lighter

While you consume the golden days
I'll be diving into your backpack
And whatever looks like darkness
Will hang on to my glue-covered self

Yes, I will take the dark days
And put them through a sawmill
I'll grind them down to nothing
And flush them in the sea

When you once again feel heavy
And need to see the gold shine
Just, run down to my mansion
And I'll defeat your cold

Broken by your own pack
You'll never be on my watch
Come, join me in my lifestyle
And paint a golden age

Yes, I will take the dark days
And put them through a sawmill
I'll grind them down to nothing
And flush them in the sea




Poetry by Cr4Ky
Read 786 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2008-12-01 at 21:32

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the front page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry web site.
2008-12-31


liz munro The PoetBay support member heart!
Just the cheer-up boost
I need.

I have been feeling heavily
weighted(no typo I've gotten fat)
and this is like riding on
wings of eagles in a beautiful breeze.

Thank you, BOOKMARKED AS A FAVE.

~L.~
2008-12-03


Kathy Lockhart
here, see my backpack; take it and find the gold and wash the rest into the sea; you see . For I am broken in spirit and laden under a sea of woes. Take my care and cleanse me, lighten me from my head to the tips of my weary toes. And then join me in the journey of living our lives as it comes and it goes. And I will carry you upon my shoulders and you will carry me sharing the times both good and bad upon the ever changing sea. : ) kathy
2008-12-01