Do you know why it happens? Do you even notice when it does?
I was just sitting there contemplating things, but that feeling was present within me again.
So I could not help but ask, is it natural? Yes? Then why does it happen?
I noticed a trend and could not help, but try to create a poem about it.
Because I am too shy to tell outright.
My poem has derailed a lot by the second half, so it became a little different, but the topics are still personal.
And yes, there are several topics I discuss in this poem...
Living in a dream, living by her will,
Lived a goat queen, not alone and never ill,
There in her dream, always was a thrill,
Calming all her thoughts, perishing the wolf,
Did she find joy? Was she never sad?
How do you define, what she never had?
Calming down the sheep, wishing cows to sleep,
Falling into role, relishing the whoosh,
That the horses make, every time they race,
Then one day at night, as it was her right,
Went the goat queen, where all had been,
Seeing a small goat, wanting it to grow,
Went the goat queen, to gather all her subjects,
Looking at the goat, one horse had been mad,
It is not a goat, it is a big bad!
Are you not aware? That is how a bear,
Leaves an injured kid, trapping us to eat,
Every one of us, now we are all dead,
Other horses stood, claimed it was all good,
Our queen is wise, she won’t lead us to demise,
Don’t listen to that horse, it is old and worse,
It has bad eyesight, bears everywhere in its sight,
Everyone survived, it was all a lie,
But the queen had been, since that day has passed,
Anyone who asked, the same as they foreseen,
The queen does act the same, so no one knows her pain,
But inside the queen, no longer was a dream,
What if at that night, the old horse had been right?
Her subjects then would die, she needs to lead them right,
So the queen has thought, there is no more of hers,
The rainbows and sunshine, to think it was all naught,
But pebbles on the roadside,
The queen has changed a lot, the others would have thought,
If ever they had noticed, she was not having fun,
To her it was all duty, but so was life a lie,
There is no longer fun, only her desire,
To make for others fun, to finally be sun,
To all that it desire.
I am shy so I will write a poem
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One Perfect Veteran
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