One of my poems … (12/06/2005)

Mr. Youth

c. 2003, Vernon E. Pope

Viciously the youth did rage

Against his invisible foe.

Over and over his age

Left him helpless as his toe.

Understanding slow to dawn

Within his impaired vision.

He traveled like a fawn

Suspecting all others’ action.

Until the day he grasped a can

While doing ordered amends,

He finally understood, the man,

Fitting in, on giving depends.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I suppose I could go off the deep end here, into some huge lecture on what was on my mind when I wrote this, and what it is supposed to mean, but I’d rather just toss it out here, and let you all ponder it and it’s meanings for yourselves.

I will state that this did win an Editor’s Choice Award for original thought in’s 2004 annual International Society of Poets competition. But, that doesn’t change what the poem means, to me or you. I don’t think it should, anyway.


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