TIME TO TELL A TALE
mad hippie poet 1974 (new jersey)
Why do the higher powers always give the most brutal battles to their strongest soldiers? What more must I sacrifice to continue my journey on their holy path before I lose my shit altogether. Again, I remember I can handle any stormy weather so that I will carry the weight of the cross on my shoulder.
I no longer want to look into their mirror or mine and find a single tear in my eye, so like a shooting star, I will dance across the morning and evening skies. I will not bow down to that which is trying to kill me. All I will say is, feed me more as I stand on your mountaintop, and they all will sing my praise as they watch my family flag being raised.
I am showing my face, starting what I started as I burn all these bridges down, taking all their gold and drinking all their wine away. I am the lion they let out of his cage, roaming free in his kingdom night and day.
They always said I would never find or get mine as long as they were alive. I remain quiet, speaking my mind as I sit back on what was once their throne with their holy grail in hand, rewriting their lies, waiting to tell my truth. Forgive me, Father, for I have you who has sinned, and now for this journeyman, this warrior, I am sorry if this is the end forever. Kiss the dead goodbye as I fare thee well. You can go to your man-made hell as I go to the devil I know with storytime.
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"TIME TO TELL A TALE" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 13 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/169194/time-to-tell-a-tale>.
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