The Road More Traveled
the reds i see
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It was a moment of decision
of desperate words and actions
that you'll see is uncommon in no land
that has yet been seen.
It was the moment of decision
in which I rose to say
"you're wrong and I hate you"
the only words my actions could speak
my mouth had not moved
yet my fists were two 3 shades of red
each with a cause and an effect
that came from a moment of decision.
the first shade is the palest
and it's caused by my fingers clinching tight
so I could then lead to the second shade
of red I had to confess.
the second is from pain
that came right before the third red
the red I wish I had not chosen
though I'll explain in the end
the third red is not my own
but of the lad I had to teach a lesson
of respect and discipline
though the lesson will never be finished.
for the third red covers the first two
and the first two were the lesson
just not the way I imagined it
when the metaphoric road split in my mind.
I chose to use the third red
since the first only explained what,
the second; what happened after
and this to end the others.
the road had two signs.
I only saw the one.
the one that said action...
is the last choice.
the road I chose was a beaten road
from cars and bikes and even the trikes
which time and time again
travel this road in fear.
fear that the choice was too easy
too sudden to be the better
yet too late to make a difference
for the action was ready
it was ready to speak
and I just let it go
on to this bloody corpse
of which I have lain.
the third blood came from here
but it doesn't end now
when the body stops moving
my legs start driving.
the first choice led to a second
and so on for a while
and so on for much time
and so on for eternity.
this action
this choice
this road
this voice
they all said
"You're wrong and I hate you"
though my words never said it
how could it be true?
my words are my actions
while my actions are my words
and my choices are my roads
while my roads are my choices.
it goes on forever and ever
because I choice to speak with action
and the action wasn't a kind one
that would calm the soul in me.
I killed someone today
and it all felt the better.
though it's strange to say,
"I'm wrong and I hate me"
There's a fourth red
i haven't time to explain
it's a red like the third
that came for a similar place.
the fourth red mixes with the third
and the two together
cover one and two
which seem so small to me now.
the reds are all so strong
and yet so faint and far
i can't take time to explain
the road ends soon and I must go.
the road is ending
and there's a new red
a red of hate and sadness
a red of prayer and meakness.
this read is consuming me.
why did I come this way?
"Please help me"
They scream
they scream for kindness
yet I fear I can give none
for i soon will need kindness
and i have no time for them.
the reds are gone now
all colors are gone
black is too bright
white is too dark
there is no color
just pain from choices
we all made in the beginning
before even the reds.
______________________________
Basically, what I tried to say though, was that there are many people going on doing evil things, not ever knowing that they are evil. Things such as killing. Some of the people who do these things don't know they are bad and they haven't met anyone who would come to prevent this. The only person that tried to stop this would crucified and it's on his hands. The first blood represents hatred. The second red represents war (fighting). The third red was Jesus' blood. The fourth red is this person's own blood (he's dying). The fifth red represents the flames of hell. There's a lot behind it and I planned it that way because I want to feel like people are actually thinking about poetry. If someone wants to add to what I have, then please do. Maybe someone saw something in my poem that I didn't, and that would be great.
Capt. over and out!
of desperate words and actions
that you'll see is uncommon in no land
that has yet been seen.
It was the moment of decision
in which I rose to say
"you're wrong and I hate you"
the only words my actions could speak
my mouth had not moved
yet my fists were two 3 shades of red
each with a cause and an effect
that came from a moment of decision.
the first shade is the palest
and it's caused by my fingers clinching tight
so I could then lead to the second shade
of red I had to confess.
the second is from pain
that came right before the third red
the red I wish I had not chosen
though I'll explain in the end
the third red is not my own
but of the lad I had to teach a lesson
of respect and discipline
though the lesson will never be finished.
for the third red covers the first two
and the first two were the lesson
just not the way I imagined it
when the metaphoric road split in my mind.
I chose to use the third red
since the first only explained what,
the second; what happened after
and this to end the others.
the road had two signs.
I only saw the one.
the one that said action...
is the last choice.
the road I chose was a beaten road
from cars and bikes and even the trikes
which time and time again
travel this road in fear.
fear that the choice was too easy
too sudden to be the better
yet too late to make a difference
for the action was ready
it was ready to speak
and I just let it go
on to this bloody corpse
of which I have lain.
the third blood came from here
but it doesn't end now
when the body stops moving
my legs start driving.
the first choice led to a second
and so on for a while
and so on for much time
and so on for eternity.
this action
this choice
this road
this voice
they all said
"You're wrong and I hate you"
though my words never said it
how could it be true?
my words are my actions
while my actions are my words
and my choices are my roads
while my roads are my choices.
it goes on forever and ever
because I choice to speak with action
and the action wasn't a kind one
that would calm the soul in me.
I killed someone today
and it all felt the better.
though it's strange to say,
"I'm wrong and I hate me"
There's a fourth red
i haven't time to explain
it's a red like the third
that came for a similar place.
the fourth red mixes with the third
and the two together
cover one and two
which seem so small to me now.
the reds are all so strong
and yet so faint and far
i can't take time to explain
the road ends soon and I must go.
the road is ending
and there's a new red
a red of hate and sadness
a red of prayer and meakness.
this read is consuming me.
why did I come this way?
"Please help me"
They scream
they scream for kindness
yet I fear I can give none
for i soon will need kindness
and i have no time for them.
the reds are gone now
all colors are gone
black is too bright
white is too dark
there is no color
just pain from choices
we all made in the beginning
before even the reds.
______________________________
Basically, what I tried to say though, was that there are many people going on doing evil things, not ever knowing that they are evil. Things such as killing. Some of the people who do these things don't know they are bad and they haven't met anyone who would come to prevent this. The only person that tried to stop this would crucified and it's on his hands. The first blood represents hatred. The second red represents war (fighting). The third red was Jesus' blood. The fourth red is this person's own blood (he's dying). The fifth red represents the flames of hell. There's a lot behind it and I planned it that way because I want to feel like people are actually thinking about poetry. If someone wants to add to what I have, then please do. Maybe someone saw something in my poem that I didn't, and that would be great.
Capt. over and out!
