My life is to control my mind,
With parables of the wise,
So how long will simple minds,
Love all thier simple ways,
Living out cold, selfish lives,
And hold on to useless old pains?
It often gets cold when it rains.
When it pours it is best to have a friend,
To get involed in the strife of another,
Is like to sleep in the lion's den.
The jealousy of a betrayed husband,
Is stronger then a hundred strong men,
And no matter who you are or what you do,
You find an adversary around every bend.
I find it is better to laugh then to worry,
If you can not read between the line,
The point of any book can get blurry,
Watch what you say and what you do,
And think about who you do them to,
For there is no greater furry,
Like the kind you find,
Inside the set mind, of a twelve man jury.
It is better to cut off your hand,
Then it is to steal from a friend,
Better to not have been born,
Then to suffer alone in the end.
A beautiful woman who is mentally sick,
Is like a gold ring in the snout of a pig,
If you do not know who you are,
The older you are, the deeper you dig.
Guilt is a tag along, who loves to linger,
And despite the pain,
Never worry about a splinter in your finger,
If you have a hole in your neck,
For a fearless man is just a man,
Who is afraid to live out his life,
With no other man's respect.
Rhyme or Reason......which do you prefer?
© Copyright 2016 Tyrone Slade. All rights reserved.
Poem / Religion and Spirituality
Poem / Memoir
Poem / Memoir
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