Storm clouds were forming
Although the forecast called for calm;
They were planning her coronation,
All the while ignoring the alarms;
Meanwhile the Village Idiot
Played a catchy Pied Piper song;
Hordes of forgotten citizens
Started following to sing along.
Rumors and innuendos
Added to her baggage weight;
Calls to apathetic voters
Were made hours far too late;
The crown that was measured
To sit atop her storied head,
Adorned the Village Idiot
And his sorry lot instead.
Like watching the burning Hindenburg
We can decry, “Oh the humanity”;
But, with the spark once ignited
There’s no stopping this tragedy;
You can curse the opposition;
You can lament the other side;
But, history will surely show us
All share the blame for this fatal ride.
Destructive winds cannot be calmed
By voices loudly complaining;
Damages caused by the raging storm
Will leave some structures still remaining.
Honker down in quiet resolve
Until the torrent passes;
Then re-emerge after the surge
To recover with the masses.
Some will dance in revelry
Upon the cyclone’s whirling arrival;
Thinking the storm so many fear
Is necessary for their survival;
To shout them down while the wind roars on
Is a futile exercise;
Their own remorse once it has blown its course
Will come as no surprise.
So, ride the winds, if you must
Thinking the day, for you, is won;
Under calmer skies, in the settled dust,
From the shelters we’ll rise as one.
Brick by brick, we’ll repair the house
You think that you’ve blown down;
A stronger foundation will reappear
From the new resolve that we have found.
Similar winds have come and gone
We know this from history past;
This won’t be the first storm we survive
And it’s likely not the last.
I handed out scholarships to the future;
Looked tomorrow’s leaders in the eye;
Saw promises of brighter days ahead
For both you and I.
I shook hands with hopes and dreams
Having education at its core;
The only regret that I have inside
Is that I couldn’t hand out more.
Under gray skies of current affairs
In a crowded auditorium,
I breathed a sigh of pure relief
All because of them.
They walked out with their heads held high
Measured for cap and gown;
I walked out with a tear in my eye
For this pride inside I found.
I dusted off some memories;
Unfroze some friends and enemies;
Found you sitting next to me in school.
I watched you very carefully;
Your every move made gracefully;
As I just sat there silently like a fool.
I never asked you for a date;
A memory that I’ve learned to hate;
Even if your answer would be “no”.
I simply wish I had the nerve
To navigate that shyness curve
So, on other journeys I could go.
I know not where you are today;
I hope your life turned out okay,
Though memories of me probably don’t survive.
I’m that boy with the awkward smile
Who sat next to you across the aisle,
Not sure if you knew I was alive.
The present demands my attention back;
Those memories again, away I pack;
Not sure when I’ll dust them off again.
But when there comes a time I do,
I know there will be some of you
Of that, I always can depend.
When you pass judgement on someone I love,
You, too, pass judgment on me;
When you go to war with one of my friends,
You become my enemy;
When you bully a person whom I respect
I lose respect for you;
The jokes you tell may be in jest
But the pain they inflict is true.
When you build a wall to keep people out,
I will build doors to let them in;
When you hoard the wealth all for yourself,
Charities, I will begin;
When you use fear and hate to promote your brand,
Peace and love I will return;
When for others you refuse to take a stand,
No loyalty will you earn.
There are …
Consequences for the words you use
Consequences for the tacts you choose
Consequences for nefarious acts
Consequences for defying facts
Consequences for the friends you make
Consequences for the paths you take
Consequences for making enemies
Consequences for stating absurdities
There are …
Consequences for being on the attack
Consequences for not taking insults back
Consequences for an ego not reined in
Consequences for each fight you begin
Consequences for believing you’re so smart
Consequences for fires that you start
Consequences for spewing lies untrue
Consequences for just plain being you
At no matter what age a father passes,
It is far too young for the adoring son;
No matter the accomplishments a father amasses,
The job of being ‘Daddy’ is never done.
Even when a man becomes a father himself,
His father’s advice he will always seek;
Even with independence and confidence felt,
The day his father passes will be dark and bleak.
At no matter what age a father moves on,
It will always put tears in a loving son’s eyes;
The touchstone once counted upon is now gone
The day that his father dies.