MY USE IS WHAT, YOU ASK?

~MY USE IS WHAT, YOU ASK? ~

Drop the pen they say.

To go pick the spade or shovel?

I ask,

But the lullaby singer,

And the bed dresser.

Do they not have the same task?

The lullabies I sing of life,

To put the dead to sleep

And the graves you dig for them.

Does it not end us up on the same page?

Are we not on the same mission?

To put to rest a beloved?

The captain and the crew,

Are they not on the same ship?

Are they not on the same voyage?

To reach their destinations safely?

And when the angry billows roll,

And the greedy ocean hungers

And thirsts for life,

Does he gobbles up the captain alone?

The pleading and the crying,

Do they not have same goals,

To affect emotions and

To appeal to sympathy?

Indeed, it’s true,

The sun shines at day

But does that make the moon shirk her duties

And sleep at night?

Don’t they all give humans light?

Agree I also,

That the pen is much lighter than the shovel

But the pain felt at heart,

And the pains felt in the body,

Do they not all reside in the flesh?

Do they all not render the entire being weak?

This world,

This world is an alloy.

A composition of lots of professions and occupations,

To satisfy the wants and needs of humanity.

So before my use is what, you ask,

Yourself remember to ask;

The lines that are parallel on earth,

Do they ever remain parallel in space?

To know our path in life is same

And my use is as equally as same,

As yours you think is.

  But if for pride, you still wish

To unleash your ego on me,

To ask my use is what?

Please, yourself remember to ask again;

The lines that remains parallel on earth,

Will they ever forever remain parallel in space?

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2015