Freedom

Fortune laughs in the old woman’s face

Shuffle all that’s left of dancer’s grace

Wrinkled arms that once would fling and flay

Hang heavy and refuse to obey.

 

Her heart, weak and constantly famished

Cries for her torture to be finished

No longer she yearns for love to feel

Instead waits for heaven’s bell to peal

 

Eyes as tired as Victorian lace

Blinded to God’s everlasting grace

Steal bindings encircle shriveled chest

Restrict the ability to rest

 

In hardened bed of thorns she reclines

As witness to loneliness she pines

With every sinew, bone and ounce

She besieges Master Death to pounce

 

Oh please, oh please, Lord do me allow

To end this torturous life right now

I’ve lived my life as best as I could

Upon my principles I have stood

 

There is nothing now that I regret

Except for people I did forget

Forgive my sins, for I am weak

Give me the release, which I do seek

 

Then with smile upon her wizened face

She experienced God’s loving grace

Flying free of her skeletal frame

She joyously sand out God’s name

 

Flowers, Flowers Everywhere

It didn’t take too long to realize

That I had begun to fantasize,

And I was forced to carefully apprise

The situation before my eyes.

 

My time had come, that much was certain.

I stupidly stared at the white curtain,

After my legs had stopped their dartin’

And my poor heart had ceased its hurtin’

 

The doctor, a diagram he traced

Of my heart: at me he boldly faced

And now declared, as my eyes gazed

At my demise. I was sorely fazed.

 

Later that day, I died, to my surprise.

Sad I was this good world to be partin’

The flowers still remain where they were placed.