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"Postmarked the day before yesterday"
by David Barger
2009-08-03 09:14:32
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Dearest child,

How well can you recount your days?
Days filled of joy and laughter
As you ran around
Dirty ditches,
Endless streams,
And bountiful fields.
Young mind like a sponge
Soaking in every word taught,
And holding selective
Lessons at the cornerstone
Of this youthful mind.

Tend to these days
Keeping only what is necessary
Allowing abundant growth
To overflow from the garden
Of your precious mind.
Feed well your imagination
For too many have aged cold
Losing their sight
By killing the child within
Once adulthood took form.

Have you seen the mountains yet?
What a reminder they are to all
Who seek to stay humble throughout life.
Take in every image
Every single masterpiece of beauty
Which passes before your eyes.
Receive each one and retain
Them as a treasure locked
In the deepest sections of your inner heart.
Release them unto the next generation;
To the child after you,
And the children after them.
Recall these days
When fireflies peeked their light
Before they hid themselves from man
When forest, and woodlands lived
Before housing developments
Caused earthly life to go underground,
And the only flowers seen
Are found in oil paintings
Sitting in dirt near concrete foundations.

The earth is dying
Ever twisting and writhing
In constant pain
Ever since ownership changed hands
Until it is engulfed in fire,
And drowned by the ice
Floating in space.
What is inevitable is inevitable,
But how each minute is lived,
Walked, and molded can change
Only the outcome of those whom
You may touch;
Though you are allowed to live
Your life, and your life alone,
And cannot
Live the life for the one next to you.

Let me ask you,
When have you last read a really good book?
One that takes you away
From this world full of despair,
And leaves you wanting to taste
And devour every moment worth living.
It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

Let me ask you,
When have you last wrote down a few words
Just some simple thoughts
Onto the face of paper?
The movement of a pen
Can sway the thoughts of many
Causing them to holdfast unto hope,
Another day, and maybe
To a dream.
Cherish these days.
Look at me
Rambling on and on
As time draws near
When once again I must
Face the ravens
Screeching from the factory walls.
Cherish these days
Of youthful living,
And allow your inner child
To never die.

With much love and wishful thinking,
The Poet

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