Once upon a time
A girl was blessed
She lived with her father
A carpenter
Near a forest.
Chopping wood was hard
Using it was even harder
Having a lot of stuff to do
He was a troubled father
And so,
The girl was left in the dark
Frequently
The man was gone to work
The house was lonely.
But the girl was blessed
She knew the food he would bring home
Nice meat and bread
Just like every other time
They would all taste great.
Sometimes, the father was drunk
He shouted at her
- as a random punk
The girl got beat up
By wine
And evil laughter
But why, no tear was dropped
All she could think of
Was the new white dress
For her previous birthday
And so, she smiled
For she was blessed.
Time passed by, and people just died
Families hooked up
And they all cried.
And yet, they did – the whole village
Moaning for their carpenter who fall
The lil’ girl was left
When her dad was called
A white towel was a gift
But nothing else at all…
O, he beat me up
The one who was feared
Everything…
…was my loneliness
While he shouted, with tears…
Now he’s gone, thank to God
A whole lot.
Wearing her square-holed white dress
Skipping
Smiling
And living
For she was
Blessed.
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Even Petra Academy has a popper. Even a popper believes in Faith, Hope and Love. And even though he doesn't have a proper writing skill, he still wants to convey things that he is inspired.
What is "popper"? - Mr. Koenen.
- Basically, popping is one kind of breakdancing - which pretty much defines who I was in Petra. Body waves and moonwalking are examples of it.
Besides, "popper" sounds weird and ..."crunchy" to me, so I took it.
Besides, "popper" sounds weird and ..."crunchy" to me, so I took it.
The Popper
About Me
- Anh
- Warrensburg, Missouri, United States
- a.k.a. "DK". Once "petrified" in Petra Academy, now I am attending University of Central Missouri (UCM). Welcome to my blog. I hope you'd enjoy it.
6 comments:
This is my very first English... poem (I at least tried to write one). Sadly, there is no comment, maybe because people misunderstand it and dislike it. So I think a little description is necessary.
Well, it's just another weird idea of mine. One day I thought that people live with each other, usually not satisfy with the others because of something bad they did. However, when someone dies, people will come around, forgive all of his faults and cry hard, for what they now think of are the good things the dead person did. So, shouldn't we do the opposite thing - only think of people's good things while they are still around, then try to think something bad about them when they die, so the sadness would be reduced along with tears? (even the dead don't want to see the survivors being sad like that, I suppose.)
Anyway, this idea was where the poem came from, and the girl in the poem did exactly like that. Reasonably, such weird idea is hard to be accepted or even considered. Never mind then ^^.
Well, I do understand this poem better now. What doesn't make sense is why she is "blessed" when her father is still around. I guess she could see the good why he was still alive. That was the only thing that didn't make sense the first time I read the poem.
There was one more (insignificant) thing, the white towel she gave her dad was actually from her dress (notice at the last stanza). And for the truth, I now have no idea what does that mean. lol.
I did notice the white dress-> white towel connection, but I wasn't sure what the significance was. What did you mean by connecting those? In my mind it was a progression from something clean and whole (the white dress) to something dirty and broken (a towel, maybe used for dishes). Or, it could be seen as giving back to her father what he gave to her. What did you intend?
Richard
aha, I actually said it was "insignificant" (or at least now I think so). I have no idea, maybe your second thought was right, she gave it back. lol
I like how you posted a comment back within four minutes, but I think I can top that. :)
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