I Fall Poem by David Daykin
I Fall
I sit here high in my tree.
My gaze travels and far do I see.
Murder makes headlines,
as long as in time for the deadlines.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
Hope has faded,
poor countries suffer unaided.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
Wars in our neighborhood,
streets awash with young blood.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
A mother who has her child taken away,
her only crime was to let them go out and play.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
The elderly left, ignored, to die,
people who struggled through Wars for you and I.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
The faces that my eyes do meet,
contorted with desire, bigotry, a huge conceit.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
This world seperated by political lines,
this world that is rotting, sliding into decline.
My grip weakens, a finger releases.
So I sit here high in my tree,
closing my eyes not wanting to see.
Am I safe behind my walls?
No, so I release my grip and then,
fall.
I like this poem, because i like the way the poet keeps going back to the line 'my grip weakens, a finger realeases' and uses that to bring all the other injustices and sorrows in the poem do to a personal level, down to you and me. Cool! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:43:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the play on words with rambling on about wars and commenting on other things. Needs some line breaks though and some capital letters have to be lowered like poor. I like how the form backs up the subject matter and relays the meaning. At the ending fall could stand on its own and still hold water without the ellipses. Something to think about.