A Collection of Poems

031: Cube

This poem is one of the deviant types that I made. I call it deviant because I don't feel it much of a poem but something deeper than that. I hated the inspiration of this poem, but the poem itself is not that bad or something to feel hatred for, but it feels different to me, especially the title, which I think is because this person (the inspiration of this poem) is very geomteric in behavior and attitude, whatever it means. It feels awkward but special at the same time. Overall, it's good enough to be experimental for a while.

XXXI

CUBE

I have a simple story

Of many years ago

When all was cold and dreary

And nights swung to and fro

I was at deeper thinking

When agitation came

I sensed a strong vibration

Of feelings just the same

I met this little child who

Gave me this little smile

I said a little thank you

Embraced her for a while

And then she handed something

A box of cottoned tear

I wondered what was inside

For she had so much fear

She feared of unacceptance

When friends despise and sneer

She feared of being different

When friends treat her with queer

She cried, like that of angels

When stars fell from the sky

I took her from her troubles

And softly asked her why

She told her that I met her

So many years ago

I tried to make remember

But all I could was no

And then she told me that I

Was lonely riding home

And passed by her direction

With lips of frozen stone

And then I did remember

But wondered why, oh why

She said that things can do change

But others stay to cry

And so, the simple story

Of many years ago

When I was cold and dreary

Could end like this one so