{"id":1049,"date":"2016-07-26T00:29:26","date_gmt":"2016-07-26T05:29:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/?p=1049"},"modified":"2016-07-26T00:29:26","modified_gmt":"2016-07-26T05:29:26","slug":"memorial-day-poem-fears-slave-2016","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/2016\/07\/26\/memorial-day-poem-fears-slave-2016\/","title":{"rendered":"Memorial Day Poem (Fear’s Slave) 2016"},"content":{"rendered":"

Is twenty old enough to give secrets of the world to hold, <\/span><\/p>\n

Should still a boy of twenty one become prematurely old, <\/span><\/p>\n

When I was twenty two my injuries caused my will to fold, <\/span><\/p>\n

At age twenty three I married my precious treasure of gold, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When I was twenty four dreams woke me to again live,<\/span><\/p>\n

A man of twenty five shouldn’t beg protestors to forgive, <\/span><\/p>\n

When I was sixty two I cried so much I seemed a sieve, <\/span><\/p>\n

Although I’m sixty eight I beg the sins of then you forgive, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I’ve tried in a way to heal my whole yet I’m still incomplete, <\/span><\/p>\n

Like a babe in the woods I tried to live but couldn’t defeat, <\/span><\/p>\n

That beast of long ago is seen in shadows from my feet, <\/span><\/p>\n

As the sun sets the extension of me lays flat in the street,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Withe* flexibility flows from the dark silhouette I can see, <\/span><\/p>\n

Most often it has no resemblance of this human being me, <\/span><\/p>\n

Never erect, it’s forever following like a shadow should be, <\/span><\/p>\n

Each time I see it I wonder what it’s hiding that I can’t see, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As darkness comes it must depart to places that be unknown, <\/span><\/p>\n

When I sleep the intentions of the hiding beast are often shown,<\/span><\/p>\n

Each journey, each mission are mushed into sins that I still own, <\/span><\/p>\n

Eyes of each defeated foe are layered to stare like painted stone, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A thousand coats of my pain are upon the stone creatures I see, <\/span><\/p>\n

I once ran from the soil of fray and was flown across the sea, <\/span><\/p>\n

Tied to a stretcher unable to move as foe’s pain enveloped me, <\/span><\/p>\n

Forty years later the creatures of aged stone I started to see, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I have the answer to a riddle or question formed in my mind, <\/span><\/p>\n

How long does it take stone to cross oceans for me to find, <\/span><\/p>\n

With stone eyes of layered foe are stone creatures really blind,<\/span><\/p>\n

“Forty years and a day” I’d say of the mystery yet to be defined, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My form my fashion is known to most, they think I’m brave, <\/span><\/p>\n

It’s never been courage they see but I fear fear will enslave,<\/span><\/p>\n

Anchored to hold me there it’s that I have fear of the grave, <\/span><\/p>\n

When you run in defeat you die inside to live as fear’s slave, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

At sixty nine the willow will flex in motion to avoid Texas wind, <\/span><\/p>\n

The unfortunate tragedy is that age removes the ability to bend, <\/span><\/p>\n

So stand I must and fight “departure’s will” in combat to defend, <\/span><\/p>\n

I defend for her as I always have and of “departure” it I will send, <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Through script on a material of plastics and current I exude,<\/span><\/p>\n

Release brings a cleansing unseen yet it does help to conclude, <\/span><\/p>\n

I’m taken by surprise again at the will I have wrapped in fortitude, <\/span><\/p>\n

I see her radiance and know she is the magic cure of my attitude,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Another Memorial Day brings pain that will resurrect once more, <\/span><\/p>\n

Along with numerous question such as what were we fighting for, <\/span><\/p>\n

Memories of extreme that I wish to buried in darkness forevermore, <\/span><\/p>\n

But I hold dear my memories of strength from the girl I still adore.<\/span><\/p>\n

The end <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

*”Withe” flexible branches used to weave baskets<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Is twenty old enough to give secrets of the world to hold, Should still a boy of twenty one become prematurely old, When I was twenty two my injuries caused my will to fold, At age twenty three I married my precious treasure of gold,   When I was twenty four dreams woke me to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-1049","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"czr-hentry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1049","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1049"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1049\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1050,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1049\/revisions\/1050"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1049"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1049"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poemsforpatti.com\/love\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1049"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}