The Old Monk & Nobody's Fool

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Tried to make a more traditional poem from "The Horror Trap." Not very good but, I kinda wanted to try something with more structure as the horror trap felt like a kind of essay (real hacky [so's this]).

The old monk crosses the churchyard with a broom in hand,

With it, he gently sweeps his path,

Saving the lowly and, the meaner things of the land,

From soft death of seamless shoes,


Old fool, he does not know, there is nothing he can do,

The Myriad, the varied Hells,

From the great oceans deep and blue,

To the tallest peaks of the earth,


The meaner things of life, they reside in those places,

Acting in accord with nature,

Truly, I am a flawed and deeply cynical man,

I've done nothing, nothing of worth,


I've risked nothing for no one and, I am not a fool,

The monk may know something I don't ,

Thought it best to be a wolf, should I have gone with wool?


I'll never know,

And, he'll never know,

What goes on in those places he cannot see,


I am not a fool,

And, the old monk tends his path 

Submitted: May 23, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Black Dog. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



As usual, this is a wonderful poem.

Tue, May 25th, 2021 5:47pm


: ) Thanks, I appreciate that you took the time.

Tue, May 25th, 2021 1:19pm

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