Good morning! No intense emotions today, as much as I know everybody loves those (more are coming soon, worry not). I wanted to post something that most people could relate to. Here I’ve got a poem about how hard it can be to exist in a world where money seems to be everything, and a world in which I’d just like to be a simple mushroom farmer.
Rich Taste
epicurean delights
turkish midnights
all the world’s many sights
all the fool’s many slights
flying far above and wide
eyeing and spying the other side
hoping and praying to take a ride
perhaps by lead of some great guide
how hard it is to venture
when one so feels indentured
a world apart from adventure
left only to this debenture
toiling, roiling and fairing so well
i only wish that i could tell
seeking to rise, casting a spell
only to find it already fell
simple questions, simple answers
easy to say, amidst your tenures
how am i to find, among the firs
a way to join these far flung sers?
i wish not for excess
but for some modicum of success
a world in which i have time for recess
a world in which under which i face no more duress
spellbound daydreamers await their letter
hoping someday that it gets better
bound by unseen fetter
wrists chafing and redder
one hard day after another
calling for your mother
calling to be smothered
knowing only bother
i know what i want and how to get there
though my coffers lie bare
anxious while they stare
if only they happened to care
Poems by Sam 