What is real to thee
So real does it ever seem,
May be a phantom.
Take care this realness
Is not a dagger with which
To slay thine own soul
What is real to thee
So real does it ever seem,
May be a phantom.
Take care this realness
Is not a dagger with which
To slay thine own soul
Could you see in Spring
what I have seen in Summer,
you might have chosen
fulfilment in life
in Fall to better yourself.
And then, looking back,
you might even see
how desolate in Winter
your life might have been,
if you had never
made that fateful decision
on one Spring morning.
Perhaps I will be
Arrested for writing this.
The President could
Put on a grand show.
Maybe I could take the blame
For peace-loving death?
It should be easy.
There are killings every day.
Just pin one on me.
The moment that I knew
That I spoke of long ago
Was in the summer.
In a stadium,
For the first time I heard it
We pledged allegiance
Many times I’d heard
Many times I’d said the words
This time, I listened.
The name of this god
is known to all by his deeds;
though few dare name him.
Peace at any cost?
When you pay with a blank check
the price is too high.
Your blank check never seems
to buy you very much.
Best you shop around.
To all those who died,
Or who lost the ones they love:
I dedicate this.
To those left behind:
I wish it could be more than
A few empty words.