6:45 p.m. :: 2009-03-06
Raindrops are doomed to fall,
On hot spots where I can call,
A new genesis on the prowl,
To stop and hold still, just stall.
Just like all the wanders of the past,
Who withered, and didn't last,
Who felt small in the long shadows cast;
The masters of the beautiful, the stained glass.
And even though it's very late,
You can still set a new date,
For this new generation's fate,
We're all here just to wait.
And we're waiting in this rain,
And we're feeling all this pain,
Ignored, forming a new stain,
That is doomed to forever remain.
I'm in this teen denomination,
soon to be the working generation.
Starved of the real truth from creation,
by the mass appeal of the nation.
Youths taking E and Blow for elation,
getting these kids on probation,
such a sorry situation,
the illiteracy of this generation.
Even though this is modern democracy,
We all call this blatant hypocrisy,
And they all think it's their legacy,
Their right to a subjective dynasty.
We know the truth, all the lies,
We spread the truth in our cries,
All this deceit, it needs to die,
We need government in which we can rely.
And so there are those who speak out,
And then there are others in doubt,
But it's time to get up and shout,
Oil, money, and greed is not what life is a about!
So grow your own food,
Toss this paper money, crude,
Be nice, don't be rude,
Recycle and keep a good mood.
Because this is for the poor,
Who deserve so much more.
Because this is for the gay,
Who aren't at fault for being that way.
Because this is for the jews,
Who were taken from their houses,
Locked up and killed like mouses,
Who were stripped of their rights,
And killed if they were to fight.
So it's time to stand up for what's right,
It's time to stand up and fight,
With every single ounce of might;
Before they lock us up 'n' shut off the lights.
By Raederle Phoenix West
I wrote this poem while I was still in High School while Bush was still president, while I was obviously still a teenager.
Rain is a reflection of what I feel the state of the world is and some important issues that I feel need addressing.
The reason I titled this poem "Rain" is because I feel that's really the state of the world. We're in the middle of a heavy rain. There are disasters every where we turn, and it's loud, hard to see, and wet and cold. Yet, without this rain, we would have nothing to fuel our future. We must use all this misery and angst; we must turn it into energy, motivation and reason.
We're ripe for a new crop, but also for a mudslide, simply put.
To read more poetry by me, visit my poetry site, by clicking here.