There once was a green man,
who was green in and out,
when I fell, he lent a hand,
and said, with a shout,
"Oh, little bird, here is my shoulder,
here I am, one on whom you can depend,
I will be still and bold, a boulder,
I will be one whom you can befriend."
As I sat and looked up,
his sight enveloped me,
and showed me what I loved,
showed me those I wanted to see.
He showed me their lives,
he showed me their luck,
he showed me their wives,
all of those dollar bucks.
Then, a tear fell out,
my eyes warming up,
I started to pout,
then the man hugged me, what luck.
He comforted me, he wrapped me with warmth,
he stood by me, he held on my hand,
I still went there, though I have been warned,
I went to the place, where hurt is on land.
He comforted me, he wrapped me with anger,
he stood by me, he gripped at my hand,
I still went there, Hell, where I made the wager,
I went to the place, where hurt is the land.
My eyes seared in pain,
my heart burned with rage,
you won the game,
and you laughed, not gaining age.
The green man laughs and grabs at my hand,
"Why, hello old, new friend!"
Then he pulls me into a green-colored land,
where my story of love will end.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryJust some rants by me. Maybe I'll publish my sucky old ones, maybe I won't. You'll never know.
