Thursday, February 21, 2008


Who am I? The question rings
throughout the mind, the inner thought
of Jackals inside, together they wrought
Doubt and question into the King.

Some say such thoughts reflect the soul
Of gears that grind with broken teeth;
Until at last the rust of old
Shall bring the Reaper in relief.

Some say tasks are what make the man
as tasks make women too,
Yet work makes mad all in its hand
Like wisdom makes the fool.

Some say it lies within the heart
within the self that we are true,
Until it too stains, as we trudge
into the mud; our hearts turn hard.

Some say tigers can change their lines,
Some say not, but both are right;
Stripes are stripes but eyes are blind
to the Grass that paints them white.

Who am I? I am Grass and Tree,
Caged bird, Pig-sty
Spirit still free;

Who am I? Why can't you see?
I am both and neither--
I am Me.


Note: I tried something different with this one. Hopefully something more deep and comprehensive that the other poems. You might need to think a little to get it.

At least, that's the intention.

Still, Robert Frost is one scary dude...

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