The Story

• Posted by: Kishon James
• Created: March 30, 2016
• 0

The book is open,

All the words are spilled;

Left to the mercy of the world,

To be interpreted, and have the good intentions killed;

Still there is hope, as at least one there must be,

One empty vessel just waiting to be filled.

This perfect vessel,

Perfectly empty, filled with void;

Its new occupants, the words,

Hope has the book feeling overjoyed;

But walls have eyes, and they sometimes speak,

Corrupted, the vessel’s innocence is destroyed.

But all books tell a story;

And what’s a good plot without conflict?

And everyone loves a good climax,

No! naughty naughty, that’s not a play on the clit;

Climax makes the resolution fulfilling,

A better ending could not even be handpicked.

At this point,

The vessel becomes a part of the story;

Trapped by the intensity of its emotional attachment,

The author hopes his story won’t be like excess water in curry;

But instead create a perfect reaction like chemicals would be,

If there was no Dee Dee in Dexter’s Laboratory. 

Related entries

Because Angels Are In White…

The poem is on Doctors who were heroes to us in the time of Covid-19