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myOtaku.com: abyss of despair
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Monday, April 11, 2005
Farmer Grey
I lean upon this fencepost
Old and damaged as Farmer Grey
And trace his motions
Like a pendulum
In his old withered rocker
Like this post
He calls for me to come
And I respond rerluctantly
His eyes somwhat glazed
As he speaks
His voice raspy as he tells me
His melonchaly tale
"Every month a truck arrives
Taking taxes of what little I own
And the feds can tell me
What I can grow
And what I cannot grow
Upon my own land
"And many years past
People came and corraled my land
Limiting what small space
I have to plant
Still yet I remain calm
And silent
"But every few years
I will go to market and trade crops
With the other farmers
And recieve
The foods I need
But can't grow
"In whole, my farm
Now so small and suffering
Has been diminished
By others
Who seem to think
They own me...
And I sat there
Listened to his misery
Looked at him
His eyes
Filled with tears
And I wept
Theres my second decent pome, anyone who can figure out what its really about; it's not about a farmers land.
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