An odd poem about seeking knowledge and then being able to express it to others. |
- Old Man Three- by Keaton Foster Old man three Standing before me Wisdom, wise The hands of my time They know what will happen Upon silent lips they speak Deciphering their spoken truth Reasoning away my youth Upon the crowns of kings they sit Happily emblazoned hypocrites Dealing out what is to be done As they themselves do what they wish Nonetheless I listen with clear intent No choices to me are easily lent Old man three Seeing is believing So show me if you can Stop playing such dangerous games Stop holding me so far at bay Let me in closer still, deep inside The wisdom, the way Your hypocrisy to be enslaved Make the old man three One more than their needs A gaggle of rhetorical geese Walking, some following Into a sea of endless belief Into a wilderness of dreams Impossibilities made possible Through knowledge and understanding Old man three let me see Let me know Become one more than before One more than you are sure you must Let me crawl inside your minds Let me die expressing what I find… Old Man Three Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |