Old rhymes.

During the fall semester, I took the last of my humanities requirements. A 3-credit creative writing and poetry class. Here is the one piece that I actually managed to finish in that class.

Roll up my sleeves, try and squeeze carefully through these
Perilous woods, danger forests, thorny bushes and trees,
Gnarled branches reach and snatch, hungry for knees,
Or an arm, shoes, fingers…anything from me.
And as ridiculous as it seems, this isn’t just a scene
From a dream that I maybe had at the age of fifteen,
This is the unseen, reality of life, stepping light, moving right,
Keeping clear of sight,
One eye on the thorny path, and two for the Light,
Oops! My balance wasn’t right, so suddenly I stall,
As I fall on my face, lose my fervor and my might,
And then I begin to slip in this sand that I sink in,
Must escape quick so I claw and I bite!
But the sand now surrounds me, the sounds are now drowning,
I can’t see around me, and the squeeze is so tight…

And like this sand I slipped and slid down quicksand ditches ,
Tanned witches, sandwiches, pyramid scheme pitches,
Fabled riches, oily dishes, the whole deal, man wishes,
To pick and choose, but this quicksand rules him,
It fools and abuses him, it uses him and screws him,
I'm losing, I’m reaching for my tools can't use ‘em,
My eyes can't see but my mouth keeps moving, my hands keep feeling,
For a feeling that’s fleeting, and my heart’s still bleeding,
So suddenly I’m tearing, from underneath these torrential seasons,
Can’t see, so I feel and I hear these screams screaming,
Then I see that it's me, but I can see no vision,
My eyesight is weakened through its acts of treason,
But my heart is still bleeding and teardrops are tearing,
I'm pleading and feeling for a hope, still dreaming,
But my dreams are confused, many opinions and views,
So I’m drowning, I’m dozing, I’m falling, I’m failing,
I’m fighting, I’m dueling, I’m losing, I’m losing….

But I can hear the gush from the springs and the chirps from the trees,
And I see that it's near and the skies are now clear,
And feel the warmth from the sun and the cool from the breeze,
Feel the sun from the sand and the breeze from the sea
And I can see once again, warmth from tears as i cry,
My blood rich running red, my sight cool as the sky,
And so I look to my side and see my Book in the sand,
Planned to reach for it, maybe even speak to it and,
Maybe cry, maybe laugh, maybe nothing, what a plan
But I turned to see it was already holding my hand,
Pages wrinkled and cracked just like old times as i flipped,
And felt compelled to say something, like a line from some script,
But i couldn't dream to describe what went on in my chest,
Flipped the script on my friend, who truly told the truth best,
He read: Truly in the remembrance of God, do Hearts find Rest.

Maybe I'll start updating this thing again.