Oddball Kid's Poetry: June 2014

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Lost in a sinking sea of thoughts,

Answering an age old call,

Of daring dreams and risky revolutions,

and standing brave and strong.

No more trying tears shall there be to cry,

Nor lamenting songs sung,

And there shall be none,

Until the task is definitely done.

For we must avoid a daunting dawn,

Or a nasty and nauseating night,

For we must avoid the battle of the battles,

And try to find the sought after sight.

What is this sight you ask?

Why must you ask a crazy cynical question such as this?

Try to remember the raving past,

And then you'll see that long and living list,

Of things to be done and defeated,

In this large and lazy world,

For one person to defeat,

One lonely lost and laughing girl.

As she drew back her drawn bow,

And set her staring eyes steady,

She found her flying target,

Amongst the really raving battle below.

She saw the menace of the moon,

And the menace of the mile,

And was ready to strike that final and forever blow on an enemy so cold and cynical.

No more falling fights will be fought,

And her people would be forever at perfect peace,

If she would only release that waiting and watching bow in her hovering hands to the sky.

She stretched her anxious arms back farther,

And was ready to strike her serious blow,

When the menace turned towards her,

And daunted her as it ducked below the dying sunset.

Throwing a furious fit, she stomped her steady foot,

And raised her fist to the sky,

"I'll get you one dastardly day," she said,

"And we will no longer have any of you furious and fanatic flying!"

So the battle below her continued,

And more of her anxious arrows were released at the enemy,

But she knew that one perfect and palatable day,

She would shoot the menace of the moon, and it would be a perfect and palatable shot.

Watching and waiting she sat there above,

Looking down at the battle below,

Releasing her arrows on her perch like a dove,

With glances at the horizon to show.