[throwback] FIGHT

(From the perspective of a 12 year old, written back in 1996 in 5 minutes when I was in the 8th grade for Reading class and forgot that I was supposed to do the assignment the previous night. By chance, I got an A on the assignment and this is officially my first poem that I ever wrote. I thought it was appropriate for today being it Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday.)

Fighting is like a habit

It sticks with you through life.

You fight for the best,

You fight for your rights.

It came from the beginning

When the Indians found the land.

They fought with the white man

To save their precious man.

It will always stick with us

Fighting 'til we die.

To fight for our children,

To fight for our lives.

This evil will never depart

From our innocent little lives.

So we will always:

Fight, fight, fight, fight.

For what we believe in,

And to the day that we die.

Jaunty Jots by ACE Jaunty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

..intoxicated

so intoxicated...

everything is smooth; it flows...

no bumps, ripples, or turns.

just elevated.

no longer in longer in control.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

calm, serene, lazy motions.

relax; let everything go.

cool breeze through the air.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

words grow long; body turns limp;

eyelids grow heavy; just laying in feathers;

moves all in slow motion.

...breath in deep and pause

so intoxicated...

blanket my emotions.

exhale the negativity.

eyes grow sultry.

voice drips of passion.

...breath in deep

so intoxicated...

feeling the back and forth rock;

the hum of unheard music;

dreams from a daze;

natural forces take over.

...breath in deep and hold

so intoxicated...

feel all the power leave your body;

just everything growing weak, with no control or fight;

unable to refuse the ultimate take over.

...relax, wait, breath in deep

so intoxicated...

aware of nothing.

cares have no home.

just feeling good,

all -- all over.

words serve as no description.

all I can do:

is breath in deep,

gaze out, and just exhale

as all the tension leaves me;

because I am...

...so intoxicated.

Paradigm of Parodies: Paradise, Peril, and Peace by ACE Jaunty is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License