All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
no title2
Whispered to the Universe.
The gray sky was there upon my birth,
And the Universe whispered to me upon the earth,
That I was destined for no greatness at all,
That I would have no great memory to recall,
I was not be a Christ for martyrdom in cage,
I was not born to be a fighter bred in passions cage,
And you will live and die and fade with smoke away,
The Universe whispered to soul by dreary day,
By young times in life when but half as man does grow,
With drowned child’s eyes that gray clouds did bestow,
The rain was an affirmation to times where body went,
And places in the mind that knew not how the soul was spent,
Lost and troubled so for being a child young,
Hopelessness was a flightless bird or cancer in the lung,
Times had so lost their complexity in the body and head,
It was not hard to stray with life a path less tread,
By years where grown and sullener in the eye,
In times where the bluest skies smile tongued a lie,
Where tints of color in the vein had but soul tainted,
The rage of tortured could not be redirected,
And within those years hope was lost,
As Universe whispered advice which had no cost,
As it told me upon the day of my birth,
I had no place upon this Earth,
Gray skies did never seem to pass on this life,
Now weary with old years burdened by the new year’s strife,
Whence the sounds of bullets went and came,
And voices of love had never a lover to blame,
The voice cracked weary and so without life’s water dry,
Age’s bone dry hands work did not belie,
As the Universe once told me as hearth to fireplace was lain,
I had no place on this Earth for having hope in vain.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.