my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

the world i once looked at

through my rainbow flavored thoughts

have dulled a bit

perhaps more

over the years.

all this is the becoming of adulthood

the glass i once looked through

needs to be pieced back together

polished

that these Rainbowic colors

may have life again

the pane that once reflected

naught but my joys

and innocence

and ignorance

now lies like shards

upon my meandering pathway

careful son

you may cut your feet

and bleed upon the carpet

or some pad of paper

leaving your footprints

your mark

of undeniable anguish

the language of tortured souls before me

still yet wish for voice

is this my destiny as well ?

. . . to pass on

with the song not completed ?

i look upon the faces of the children

and i see the possibilities

of their traveling this same road

of the impending doom

where one assumes

the righteousness of the world

and again, perhaps it does exist

but surely it is resonating

in a dimension apart

from the limited wholeness we view

askewed from the embrace

i hear all about town

and all around

that “Love” will save us . . .

will it alone be our Hero . . .

or are we required as well

i am compelled to remain confused

for that is the poison we are fed

in our own heads

where the light from that window

is forbidden to penetrate

wait . . .wait . . .wait

what am i saying here

Oh My God

i call on thee

you

to see me through

hear me

i am screaming

within

and without

in my lines and rhymes

and verse

and the lack thereof

i pray thee

may i become that child again

as this world i once looked at

through my rainbow flavored thoughts

completely dulls

for

my eyes grow dim, but yet i fight

 

(c) 28 December 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.