I.
Lightly, Brightly, Blithely,
I set my arms free,
My legs filled with glee.
Tumbling over the jumbled mass of streets,
Through the chirps and tweets,
Daringly into the ceaseless creeks.
Here I stand,
On the massive stretch of land.
The flowers blossom,
The daffodils sing
The syringa plants breathe
The dandelions soar
And the growing voice fathoms,
All genders are kingdoms,
Looking unwholesome,
But never needing a ransom.
The dandelions are the most I like.
I believe in the parachutes
for the parachutes believe in me
The parachutes know
I dream of flying, floating, flossing
I dream of inscribing
The Declaration of Hu-Lad Independence
And I know what I know
And I know they know I know I should not know
A dandelion,
A joy reunion.
I roar like a lion,
Blowing through
The amorphous bars of iron.
A blink,
A breeze of wind,
with the happiness extinct.
II.
I wake up,
In the hubbub.
Properly dressed,
but not mentally armed.
The girdling I feel
The fever I sense
The uneasiness I conceal
The equality that appeals.
Are we two contradictory species?
Do the men know? Do they care?
Worthless, abysmal independence portrait!
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and they are endowed by their creators with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
Happiness?
Worthless, loneliness, acrimony
Are all I sense.
I know,
I am, you are, we are
Sculptured by the sole Creator.
The places he alters,
The uniqueness we appreciate
In front of his altar.
Uniqueness, equality!
The sumptuous fabrics know,
The wooden chairs know,
The sturdy metal bars know,
Because they are me,
I am them.
I could possess everything
But freedom.
Liberty, how eagerly we aspire!
A moment of pouring memories, The sentience of agonizing pain.
Passion there is none.
Vehemence there is none.
For the reasons,
What the callowness?
What the joy?
Married to a decent boy,
Are exploits.
Knowledge,
Scilicet,
Is meant to change worlds.
III.
Over the years of reluctance,
By passing the moments of flashing jubilance,
I’ve grown,
and he’s turned to be more mature.
As a mother, as a father,
We dedicated our lives,
To educate our children,
Not to be prejudiced.
Our children have children,
and we the forgiven,
for having a sophisticatedly young maiden.
A dandelion,
A joy reunion.
Gently breezes Tyron,
To the world of joy.
A wrinkle in time,
A tickle in mind.
Kindled the kindness,
That sparkled the shiny humankind.