Trouble

by Sonya *cancer* - Not entered

Trouble maker,
Rules breaker,
Married to a Bread-Baker

Baker baked his bread all day,
While trouble yearned to break away,
Loss of hope, she'd gone astray.

Trouble never liked the laws,
They all seemed wrong, and full of flaws,
And she felt trapped in government's claws.

Societys grip seemed too tight,
"Do this, Do that, say what is right."
But to Trouble, these rules seemed trite.

Baker never had this woe, 
He lived his life as, "Go, go, go!"
Never stopped to think, to know.

Trouble was confused and scared,
And yet nobody really cared.
She thought of Death, but never dared.

She asked baker what to do,
But her messasge didn't get through,
"Its just a phase your going through.

Trouble talked to all her peers,
And told them of her Hopes and Fears,
"Realx," they said, "And have a beer."

This confusion turned to a fit,
And drugs did not help her forget,
To "numb" was just avoiding it.

Baker said her angst was odd.
He said "Go out and get a job."
"Do what your told, say yes and nod."

Finally, Troubles patience lost,
She bought a cabin, "F*ck the cost."
In Nature's glory she'd be lost.

She was happy in the Woods,
Where no one told her what she "should"
Instead of "should...?" she asked "Could...?"

But Baker stayed and lived in town.
His life was filled with ups and downs,
There were smiles, and some frowns.

He got him self a trophey wife, 
And lived himself a trophey Life,
(A shallow, enpty, pathetic Life.)

He saved his money, bought a car,
But never drove it very far,
And spent his free-time at the bar.

While society had made her cower,
Nature had Trouble Power,
To dream, relax,and smell the flowers.

She planted veggies inthe Soil,
Bad never felt the need to tiol, 
At a job that made her blood boil.

She lived in Harmony with the Earth,
Shared, and Loved and given Birth,
A Life of Magick, Peace and Mirth.

Reason for writing:

    As I was drifting off to sleep last night, verses started 
running through my head.  Thats why some of the rhymes are 
a bit of a strech, and a few of the lines are prett lame.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1997-05-28 22:48:46
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:39:30
Poem ID: 47267

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