The PoetVangelist

This sun scorches my world, but I let it warm my face. This storm devastates my earth, but I let it cleanse me. A sob starts within, but comes out a song of praise And this time, I’ll dance, not droop with defeat. I let go, I let loose; I won’t be held down. I could cry, but what’s the use? I’d rather laugh anyhow. Sometimes, the difference between a song and a dirge Is the tune by which it’s played; regardless the words. Everything says to be depressed, but I ignore the urge. Moping and worrying won’t make it sting any less. I let go, I’m set free. I refuse to dwell on sadness. There’s no virtue in misery; There’s no joy in madness. What has been has been; I can’t change a thing- Not with tears or words or pining away. Someday, I may be hit so hard I won’t be able to sing; So allow me all the joy I can find today. I let go, light of heart; Run while my legs can stand. I grow; mature as I accept that Life hardly unfolds as planned. It seems almost reckless not to b...

So when do I get parole out of this here dungeon? Misery is my cellmate; and I can only feed off my pain. The guard comes and willingly serves another helping. I can’t see his face as he hurries off; and I’m alone again. I’m playing it over and over like a scratched CD: To make the trial fair, I was both judge and jury; And it was ruled that I’d been wronged, So why am I the one chained? If I’m right and I have won, How come I sense no gain? Here alone in this cell, I replay the crime; But preparing for ‘next time’ gives me no peace of mind. I think of what was said; how I should have said it But it only makes me feel worse and I just don’t get it. I can’t drop the charges- the crime rate will rise! Don’t call it what it’s not: unforgiveness in disguise. True, it’s neither the first, nor the last offence; But if I let go now, tell me when it ends! Then I look around and see I’m the one who is in jail. I started off the victim, but now I’m needing bail. Imprisoned ...