A late tribute to the late Maya Angelou. May she rest in peace. This might manifest into a longer poem of its own in the future.
There’s something more
That you ought to know
There was a greater play
That was written before
Your life was even your own.
Now that you turn the next stone,
Play your greatest score
And carve your lore
In the heart of life, as it walks out the door,
After it screams, “ENCORE!”
Your score will be played again.
New lad, new spirit. But the same violin.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
It did not.
There IS no other side.
Is there any place to hide
From the doubts of within
That makes our head spin?
I wish I could Pin-
Point that one voice from the din
That encourages me on
To the road of a new dawn.
Fire! Fire! Blinding light!
Crawling, feasting left and right.
Its self destroyed, as crumbles stake,
Leaving ashes in its wake
My love brings grief, for you’re not there…
My soul caves empty, darkness drawn…
I stumble, reaching void’s own snare.
I see, and blink; you’re there! Now gone…
Oh, what do I tell thee, mate? What do I tell thee?
I looked upon the follies of the world
And there was a lot I had to say.
Then I saw the world knowing them already,
And realized I needn’t have said it.
So what do I tell thee? What is it that I have to say?