The unfolding of the umbrella

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A little something I'm writing about my current surroundings.

Submitted: May 14, 2012

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Submitted: May 14, 2012



Hungers colour is white

Like the clouds, it is soft and gentle

will it float you away?


May it snap, snap, snap 

you up

to consume it's destiny

It is mans teaching necessity 

not to keep in your chest.


Moonlight wolves howling, 

all that will be left of them is marrow. 

A world they are not adapted to. 


A tiger is cannot run in a boggy marsh.

A window left uncleaned gets dirty.

A fire only starts with a spark.


A car with age gets rusty, 

a life lived. 

But like the converse on my feet, 

it will come back to its former glory. 

Will you refurbish your rusty car of talents.


It is better to be average then be a specialist. 

You stand out like a middle finger, 

when in reality it is the smaller finger which possess the ring.

The middle finger is obnoxious like it's action. 


It's time we look at the great idols of war and realise instead 

A thousand fathers in the battle left family for country, 

now isn't that heroic? 




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