personal
To be the person that I am, to myself I must be true
And comprehend the lost souls fragile mind
For all the best laid plans of men can tread a path untrue
And I would you my true path hope to find
I never was a man of worth, and baubles have I few
And am remiss in much of what I say
Another man perhaps would think that my life be askew
And not partake of silly games to play
I came from womb of angel fair across the Irish sea
A lady of much beauty laced with grace
Who raised me through her struggle within an abject poverty
And I am glad her features blessed my face
But I was young and full of dreams and yearned to stretch the rein
Rebellious of all those who would chain me
Reckless and dismissive of those not like me the same
My shackles I would shed, be rid, set free
I would cross a stormy sea a lad of tender years
And I would slay the dragon in it's lair
For I was young and strong and brave bereft of life's sad tears
And knew to much of suffering and despair
I would ride a vengeful horse, attritions sword in hand
And I would make the charlatans to pay
For love of me to them unknown, a one man robber band
No more would I to false gods kneel to pray
I was lost in deserts waste, my fury knew no bounds
At home with all the creatures of the night
One and two and three steps ahead of the baying hounds
Elusive in my never ending flight
And I in truth did shed much blood and much of it be mine
My scars bear witness to shameful defeat
But I would rise and rise again for cowardice was a crime
And years of prison bars did oft me greet
But time not fire would mellow me midst thoughts from deep within
A need of far of lands to come to know
A nomadic man forged in a crucible of endless sin
Would come at last his very soul to grow
And in the full conclusion of all that now be of my life
I would respond to all in friendships greet
No more no battles fought within concerning fear and strife
As I at last did my good self now meet
I am at last at peace within and I can once more cry
Wrapped in the tender arms of friends anew
Those poetic souls who comfort me yet knowing who be I
And not condemn for words spoken so true
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 734 times
Written on 2005-10-18 at 13:22
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My Good Self
To be the person that I am, to myself I must be true
And comprehend the lost souls fragile mind
For all the best laid plans of men can tread a path untrue
And I would you my true path hope to find
I never was a man of worth, and baubles have I few
And am remiss in much of what I say
Another man perhaps would think that my life be askew
And not partake of silly games to play
I came from womb of angel fair across the Irish sea
A lady of much beauty laced with grace
Who raised me through her struggle within an abject poverty
And I am glad her features blessed my face
But I was young and full of dreams and yearned to stretch the rein
Rebellious of all those who would chain me
Reckless and dismissive of those not like me the same
My shackles I would shed, be rid, set free
I would cross a stormy sea a lad of tender years
And I would slay the dragon in it's lair
For I was young and strong and brave bereft of life's sad tears
And knew to much of suffering and despair
I would ride a vengeful horse, attritions sword in hand
And I would make the charlatans to pay
For love of me to them unknown, a one man robber band
No more would I to false gods kneel to pray
I was lost in deserts waste, my fury knew no bounds
At home with all the creatures of the night
One and two and three steps ahead of the baying hounds
Elusive in my never ending flight
And I in truth did shed much blood and much of it be mine
My scars bear witness to shameful defeat
But I would rise and rise again for cowardice was a crime
And years of prison bars did oft me greet
But time not fire would mellow me midst thoughts from deep within
A need of far of lands to come to know
A nomadic man forged in a crucible of endless sin
Would come at last his very soul to grow
And in the full conclusion of all that now be of my life
I would respond to all in friendships greet
No more no battles fought within concerning fear and strife
As I at last did my good self now meet
I am at last at peace within and I can once more cry
Wrapped in the tender arms of friends anew
Those poetic souls who comfort me yet knowing who be I
And not condemn for words spoken so true
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 734 times
Written on 2005-10-18 at 13:22
Tags Personal
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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