skillz tha poet

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Once upon a land


once upon a land,
a land mountains did surround,
an old lady did live,
a lady of honour many thought,
but a few her real self knew,
for to these few the word mean,
never did sound anything but her,
and sure mean she was,
mean to birds in the air,
that over her roof could never
fly,
mean to the earth many toil,
a little dust a punishment to be,
mean to the trees that grew,
their shades forever unwelcome,
was such a pity to watch,
those little tears from natures'
children,
and she did camouflage herself,
in a religion that of brotherhood,
and of good neighbourhood,
an advocate was,
and many a poor fellows,
her did worship,
and by her feet did bow,
in search of a little help and
sympathy,
if any she did have,
and this to her a victory was,
and to it she did wine and dine,
in secrecy and dimmed lanterns,
but a legend goes,
that for every deed a reward sits,
and nature choseth what be,
and for all the pain to others she
did bestow,
for every tree,
for every bird,
and every human,
inhumane to she did,
a prize of sadness,
a prize of worry,
a prize of fear,
never a day would she a smile
have,
for her meaness happy would not
let her be,
and fear the best of her had,
too scared to die,
scared that mother earth her
corpse would never take,
scared of the avenging souls that
on the other side wait,
but nature weird she be,
leaves her to marinate in her
deeds,
and watch her calves a price pay,
a debt they a share never had,
and so the mean old lady lives
on,
hid in a fortress by men made,
in fear of a tommorrow unseen,
sleepless nights thus she spends,
but that be the way it is,
be cold and cold shall the best of
you have..

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