Prodigals and Poets: A kind of poem (circa 2013)
I’ve been on a pain kick for quite a while.
Not in a morose, morbid, dwelling kind of way.
But in an absorbed, intrigued, interested kind of way.
In my avid observation of pain, I have surmised thus:
two kinds of
Prodigals and Poets.
There are the people that fear pain.
They will fight it, and eventually lose to it.
They try to devour it, and become bitter from it.
They hide from it, or run from it.
Therefore, becoming Prodigals.
Then, there are the kind of people that embrace pain.
They don’t chase pain, but they face pain.
They know pain
and they grow in pain.
Their pain is not in vain.
Their pain is beautiful.
Their pain creates symphonies
and please believe,
but still they breathe.
They paint a sweet
They are the Poets.