THCreate

Poetry by: Lucas Turner-Harris

I wrote this poem December 8, 2014.

What the future holds I can’t predict.
I envision a fantasy that is unreal, probably nonexistent.
I hope to dream and pray to accept belief,
Of what is still uncertain to me.

Life holds a challenge I accept,
Regardless what fate may bring, what bee may sting.

I simply don’t care to stop and stare,
In the eyes of those who hinder my metaphorical snare.

I am me, standing five feet above the ground,
Listening to mother earth and her sound.

Ignoring the wolves that stalk and howl,
For I am always above you like an owl.

Seeing eye to eye with reality,
Doesn’t necessarily mean comprehending formality.
Saying goodbye to complacency,
And low-leveled latency.

Late and see, late and see.
Thou shall not ever hate on me.
Apathetic in instances, that’s not me.
Keeping far distances, that’s guaranteed.