The Coming Storm (a poem)
A heavy storm is brewing,
out on horizon’s line.
Panic sets as we worry how,
to prepare ourselves in time.
A heavy storm is brewing,
out on horizon’s line.
Panic sets as we worry how,
to prepare ourselves in time.
Heroes stand tall,
for those who feel small,
lifting their spirits to the sky.
Lost courage regained,
we move past the pain,
never again asking why.
Life is serenely complicated.
Some people try to stand out,
and by doing so hope to fit in
with others who do the same.
Me, I never wanted to stand out,
to be different, but I am.
I guess we all are, in our own way,
different that is.
I relish the feeling of crisp new pages,
the scent of ink in the air.
Some, may speak of enchanted places.
A handsome prince, a maiden fair.
The giggle induced din
engulfed the room in waves
splashing against each wall
with its ever expanding
joyful chatter
Long after the war has ended,
it rages in our hearts.
Continually choosing sides,
is driving us apart.
Finding some small difference,
separates the two.
In the war of us and them,
it’s time for us to choose.
© 2009-2025 E.L. Redwine