Author Topic: Furenzied's poetry...trying stuff out mostly. :p tell me what's good.  (Read 799 times)

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Offline Furenzied

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The man of many masks

The man who sits across the imposing desk
making all the choices
far above the rest.
he thinks and judges and reasons
about what would be best
For money gains and stock increase
are his prime interest.

At work he is tough, efficient and precise.
His face shows no mercy
for judgement will suffice.
He holds in his hand the people in his care,
And pluck out the ones who don't do their share.

At home he is sweet, kind and fun
With the wife and kids he has settled down,
For here is where he won.
Though the troubles of work
aren't far away,
he always tries his best to be there every day.

The man who is with friends,
Is fun and smart and free,
He chooses things to do with them
to share in all their glee.
he'll wonder where the time went before he had to go,
And think about his family
On the way back from their meet,
Or maybe the work he'll face the next day.


All these masks
hung up on the wall.
yet what we still wonder,
Who's behind it all?

A blank complection
devoid of all mirth?
Or a loving father,
with a heart fit to burst?

With all these masks
to serve as his guise,
Who is the real man.
Who is inside?


Just a little something I came up with. :p
I'm not good with words...usually.






Mate of WereCat

Offline GrayWolf448

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Re: Furenzied's poetry...trying stuff out mostly. :p tell me what's good.
« Reply #1 on: September 20, 2014, 11:10:28 pm »
barely read poetry but that was actually pretty nice ^^

Offline Furenzied

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Re: Furenzied's poetry...trying stuff out mostly. :p tell me what's good.
« Reply #2 on: November 29, 2014, 05:49:17 pm »
They remember the changes.

The changes
what was once a blue chair painted white
the paint shiny and new.
the desk full of papers and things of ill consequence.

Soon another man is put in the chair
Another change
his memories set out in family
Set in glass and slips of paper.

A new desk, another change.
Something new, something old
A retirement gift
A new watch for an old man.

Soon to leave, soon to be refilled.
A new owner, painting the walls and caring for the floors
A new business, the old building.
Time wears away, the shelves filling as fast as they thin.

The heat
it beats down uppon those unprotected from it's unblinking gaze.
Baking what it sees, warming what it doesn't.
The buildings house lives, people, memories.

They remember the changes.




Any good?


Mate of WereCat