After the Storm

When the storm passes
you take a walk
stalk your own footsteps.
Sometimes, even the bitterly cold
can't take a hold
and so, walking, talking is
the only choice.

Anger is futile,
and talks of penile colonies etc
the cronies joke about
shout, in wine fused passion,
lacking compassion
because who cares really.

The storm passed today,
I saw my anger through,
not resigned as such
just, consigned to accepting
that I do have a life
and, despite the contrary
It is worth something.




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 672 times
Written on 2010-03-30 at 21:58

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Teddy Donobauer
Interesting bit of ' yes and but'. The paradox of wishing for the better while sticking to the lesser, but alas, well known, and therefore chosen for its familiarity inspite of the boredom..
T
2010-03-31


Eli The PoetBay support member heart!
... and the expression is better too. ;-)
2010-03-31


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
When the storm is spent , it's damaged don , we emerged , stronger than the storm , fore we are the strongest force , fore we reached out in to the darkness and found some ones hand reaching out to us.
Ken ( : - ) )
2010-03-30



As corny as it may sound, I guess those storms do make us stronger in the long run--the way trees learn to bend.

Fine poem.
2010-03-30


Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle...if there was any doubt before, your philosophical poem
assures that your life is most certainly worth more than "something"

xxx Stan
2010-03-30