Re: Can I do anything about this now? No? Then shut up.
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Recently I've just been feeling sad. Reasons. There are reasons. It's not worth getting into though. I been there and back many times. I've come close to death's door early this year and fear I may have to tempt a visit by the end.
I wrote a poem here. I'm not a poet, though. It isn't perfect, but it's free. It could use work, but I don't need it to be perfect. My friend always tells me what makes art is the flaws. All I ask is please make some reference of me if you like it and choose to rip it. It took me some time to make. I just really feel bad, and talking on RPOL, actually being clear doesn't work. So I wrote this poem. I'm giving you the chance to react, but I don't need advise. I know myu problems, and I know the solutions. On scale of 1 to 10 I've been an 8 all this week. Today I came to 10, and no one ever asks about 11.
Anyway, I'm gonna post the poem. Just be nice, okay. I'm not trying to win any awards or prove any points. I'm not preaching. I'm not. I'm just venting. I've tried several ways. Now, I'm trying this. People have told me to write down my feelings. Maybe I'll be the next...some artist. That's not what I want though, and what I want I may not get, and that's not important. Having people like me, respect me, value my company, want to listen, want to talk to me, that doesn't matter. It plays no part in me doing the same. If I tell them to like me, they probably won't. I ask them to like me, they might. Though now they know what I want, I'll do what I can to find how to give what others want.
No more talk the poem:
Mountains and Valleys
A day is one of many, and all days we know are numbered. For we do not remember our first, not will we our last. What memories made, and those you, are memories you don't know, and can't undo. What mark you leave upon the land, stay ingrained like wind in sand. To build the castles in the mind, it is not without a test of time. Know now who are, and what you'll be, are the same like seed and tree. In the end though, castles stand, withstand the test of time when made of earth. Of stone and brick those last the longest, but make them not for time, nor shelter of the wind. Instead I say, make your castles like the smith immortal made.
When rich man on way to atone, came past the stones, and iron gates. Fled his fortress to take a witness, but those of his were long since gone. This man saw no path, no way to freedom. He walked the road and braved the night. At last he found himself upon a shore, and there he saw the pauper.
He asked this man, a man of wisdom, a man reborn, said the King in trembling voice, what can I do to live forever?
Said the pauper to the king, with eyes of amber and lips of slate. The pauper said, your kingdom thrived, what have you that you did not want? The King spoke now with wrath of lighting, speed of gale. But I must die, my people gone! Now the King spoke with fear of thunder, and calm of storm. How can I be as you are and know the beauty, that you for which you have taken?
Now the Pauper, frowned his face and beckoned to the King. Come forth King, though not of good. You made the world love you and so they did, but the world gone your people fled. The King declared without a doubt, but my castle was made stone and steel. And yours of sand upon the shore! You have what is mine, and I of yours. How dare you be, how dare you stay. The Pauper sighed and warned again. You do not want this that I have, for I have earned what is my life.
The King grew louder, took his hand, and struck the Pauper upon the brow. My people! That which you have taken. I will do as you have to me. I will put forth a godly decree, and by his might I shall be free. The Pauper sat without a sound, without a fear, and only patience. I have nothing you can steal, that I will not give. You want it so, and so you shall you have.
Upon the King grew a crown, of old and ancient. It had the iron, stone and jewels. Then Rubies dazzling, gold anew, but only then the King now knnew. The Pauper rose, with robe of silk, in moonlight waving. And like a hand a ray of starlight beckoned to him. The Pauper spoke, now with all he had, all he was and nothing more. I warned you young, I tell you old. What has now happened you were told. I too was king of kingdom prospering, had my way with and took it freely. I lived all a King could be, and in the end I too was not free.
I came upon this very shore, and could not see for all I looked. I did not heed, nor did you neither. The shore you stand is what you wanted. These people here, and now yours' eternal. They rest upon the sea and shore. Now you may have your Kingdom for always. Now you may play with your people, in all your grandeur. Left you are now, left you will be. To build your castle upon this shore. The stone now sand. The iron rusted. The sea is salt, and made of tears. But you will have what I have given, and you will have this when mean not years. Every night, upon your waking, you will rise and meet this fate. Build it carefully, build it quick. For on the morrow, you'll wake once more.
The King's eyes sunk, his fears awoken. He pleaded now, without a hope. I take it! take it! I am now sorry. Please take it now and give me peace.
The Pauper, sighed and said I won't, for you thought a trinket trifle what was that found in a Kingdom silver. Once men came looking, for the treasure. The richest place upon the worlds. Said they give over, what is ours, they valley poor and Mountain rich. Blood and bone, the mountain rested. Spade and dirt, the valley lifted.
Said the pauper once again, You see now. Don't you? You looked for treasure and gave to me, what did the Mountain. What they saw is as you did. But you of desert are now of shore. What the valley found, was what they would not ever have. Peace on Earth, was in the graves.
The King prostated, kneeled then crawled, I beg you, beg you, this is not mine! And the pauper rose, not fell, into myth, into memory. For it was battle he had won the King. Made his place upon the land. Now the silence broken gentle, and calm that froze in the hour. The sand ran slow, and drifted did the tides. And did the King, now know his place. There was no fruit, not merry songs. There were no children, nor beast to rear.
Now this peaceful scene. This calming sound, was all he had, and time, and waiting. There will always be those that do not yield, and win my glory and seize the day. Stories now, they are but whispers, still they linger, but do they dance?
Nor shall the Pauper, nor shall the King. Beauty is not lasting, nor kiss on cheek. The rose will wilt, the thorn will prick, but loves lost quick in the winter, are sweeter still by the moment. In death I shall rest, like all that come, and all that went. I seek only peace. You'll have your wars. I take my rest. You keep the shores.
V_V--the fifth and final of my family. With eyes wide open and downcast. The first letter of my name. A symbol I would use. And now, Mountains and Valleys. It's just a name though, it's not who I am, but it does have value and meaning.
That's the reason I came to RPoL to see stories, and make friends. I'm still working on both of those, even after ten years.
To the rest of you be well. I have no answers. As a guy named Jason told me today, you can be your own best doctor if you know yourself. Please be well.