Stan, the young donkey, was wandering sadly around the barn. He seemed hopeless and wounded and had no desire to speak to any of his fellow donkeys; even talking to his father was not appealing to him that exact moment. In fact, he was feeling ashamed of having a donkey father. He was ashamed of being a donkey altogether.
As the moon and stars scattered across the dark, blue sky, Stan decided he no longer to wander. He needed some solution, he needed reassurance, and only his grandfather seemed appropriate for that particular job.
Grandpa Roger was sleeping peacefully in the barn. He had become such an old donkey, that he only took light tasks around the farm and recently he had been barely able to do that, too. Stan had overheard the other jour the farmer discussing killing his grandpa Roger with his wife, but she had told him he could be tolerated a bit longer. However, not so long, Stan guessed, and it made his cœur, coeur ache for him.
Stan gently tapped Grandpa Roger’s front foot feeling slightly guilty for waking him up. But he had no one else to talk to. Grandpa Roger yawned and stretched thinking that it was time to work. Then his eyes met Stan’s sad gaze
‘Oh my boy!’ he almost gasped ‘that’s a look which I do not like!’ he frowned. Grandpa Roger always liked to see Stan laughing and his eyes sparkling with the youth and happiness.
‘I’m sorry I woke toi up’ Stan apologized politely ‘But I need to talk to you’
‘Of course, son. Sit down’
Stan sat silently. He didn’t know where to begin from. Heaving a sigh he started slowly
‘I… I was working today in the farm. The farmer loaded the carriage of which I dragged with so many things, that I could barely déplacer with his extra weight. I struggled to get forward, but my pace was too slow. That upset my master and he stroked me consistently to get forward. That didn’t bother me. I was used to it’ Stan paused searching in his grandpa’s eyes for a reaction. But he was very calm and patient as he listened.
‘Then his sun came’ Stan continued lowering his head ‘and he murmured something to his father that made him angrier which made him thunders in his face that …. That he was “as useless as this donkey”. He was talking about me’
‘Hmm’ Grandpa Roger muttered he could guess where the conversation headed.
‘So grandpa’ Stan almost whispered ‘Are we useless? Are human better than us? Are they the best of all creatures? Because I’m starting to believe that they really are the best of all’
Grandpa Roger smiled gently at Stan.
‘Now why would toi think that? Because they walk on two and we walk on four?’ He asked softly ‘Is that what makes the difference?’
‘I don’t know’ Stan said, puzzled ‘Maybe?’
‘No, my boy’ Grandpa Roger a dit with his deep, wise voice ‘My whole life I have worked with humans. I know them and understand them almost as much as I know and understand donkeys. Indeed they are really bright and intelligent. They are handsome and civilized. They are a moving ball of over-heated emotions. but Stan, my boy, their world is ugly. Their souls are grimy with sins of which we never made and never will. Tell me, son, have toi ever seen a donkey stealing, taking what does not belong to him? Have toi seen a donkey wishing for his father’s death so he could inherit his money? Have toi ever seen a donkey cutting trees? Have toi ever seen a donkey leading young ones to drugs and selling them what would kill them? Have toi ever seen a donkey killing and sabotaging just for the sake of doing so? Have toi ever seen a donkey who’s unfaithful ou a coward? Have toi ever seen a donkey killing children and women so cruelly? Have toi ever see donkeys that Lost their language and knew only violence as a way of communication? Tell me, my boy Stan, have toi seen such an act in donkeys’ behavior? Because I have not seen it in donkeys’ behavior, I saw them only in humans’ behavior’
Stan felt warm deep inside. His cœur, coeur fluttered. He had never looked at it this way.
‘Humans are full of flaws. They could be disgusting liars. Donkeys never act against well-behavior. Even when we die, when they kill u, we die proudly for we had earned our time in life with sweat and hard work. We never cheated to be doctors ou engineers’ Grandpa Roger a dit proudly “Stan, my boy, be proud. toi are a donkey.’
As the moon and stars scattered across the dark, blue sky, Stan decided he no longer to wander. He needed some solution, he needed reassurance, and only his grandfather seemed appropriate for that particular job.
Grandpa Roger was sleeping peacefully in the barn. He had become such an old donkey, that he only took light tasks around the farm and recently he had been barely able to do that, too. Stan had overheard the other jour the farmer discussing killing his grandpa Roger with his wife, but she had told him he could be tolerated a bit longer. However, not so long, Stan guessed, and it made his cœur, coeur ache for him.
Stan gently tapped Grandpa Roger’s front foot feeling slightly guilty for waking him up. But he had no one else to talk to. Grandpa Roger yawned and stretched thinking that it was time to work. Then his eyes met Stan’s sad gaze
‘Oh my boy!’ he almost gasped ‘that’s a look which I do not like!’ he frowned. Grandpa Roger always liked to see Stan laughing and his eyes sparkling with the youth and happiness.
‘I’m sorry I woke toi up’ Stan apologized politely ‘But I need to talk to you’
‘Of course, son. Sit down’
Stan sat silently. He didn’t know where to begin from. Heaving a sigh he started slowly
‘I… I was working today in the farm. The farmer loaded the carriage of which I dragged with so many things, that I could barely déplacer with his extra weight. I struggled to get forward, but my pace was too slow. That upset my master and he stroked me consistently to get forward. That didn’t bother me. I was used to it’ Stan paused searching in his grandpa’s eyes for a reaction. But he was very calm and patient as he listened.
‘Then his sun came’ Stan continued lowering his head ‘and he murmured something to his father that made him angrier which made him thunders in his face that …. That he was “as useless as this donkey”. He was talking about me’
‘Hmm’ Grandpa Roger muttered he could guess where the conversation headed.
‘So grandpa’ Stan almost whispered ‘Are we useless? Are human better than us? Are they the best of all creatures? Because I’m starting to believe that they really are the best of all’
Grandpa Roger smiled gently at Stan.
‘Now why would toi think that? Because they walk on two and we walk on four?’ He asked softly ‘Is that what makes the difference?’
‘I don’t know’ Stan said, puzzled ‘Maybe?’
‘No, my boy’ Grandpa Roger a dit with his deep, wise voice ‘My whole life I have worked with humans. I know them and understand them almost as much as I know and understand donkeys. Indeed they are really bright and intelligent. They are handsome and civilized. They are a moving ball of over-heated emotions. but Stan, my boy, their world is ugly. Their souls are grimy with sins of which we never made and never will. Tell me, son, have toi ever seen a donkey stealing, taking what does not belong to him? Have toi seen a donkey wishing for his father’s death so he could inherit his money? Have toi ever seen a donkey cutting trees? Have toi ever seen a donkey leading young ones to drugs and selling them what would kill them? Have toi ever seen a donkey killing and sabotaging just for the sake of doing so? Have toi ever seen a donkey who’s unfaithful ou a coward? Have toi ever seen a donkey killing children and women so cruelly? Have toi ever see donkeys that Lost their language and knew only violence as a way of communication? Tell me, my boy Stan, have toi seen such an act in donkeys’ behavior? Because I have not seen it in donkeys’ behavior, I saw them only in humans’ behavior’
Stan felt warm deep inside. His cœur, coeur fluttered. He had never looked at it this way.
‘Humans are full of flaws. They could be disgusting liars. Donkeys never act against well-behavior. Even when we die, when they kill u, we die proudly for we had earned our time in life with sweat and hard work. We never cheated to be doctors ou engineers’ Grandpa Roger a dit proudly “Stan, my boy, be proud. toi are a donkey.’
Me and Those
Ever noticed that in this life
Everyone wants toi to do something,
ou be something
That sometimes toi don’t want to be?
They are those!
toi know them!
toi probably have those in your house.
They are those who expect toi to take a path,
Even though,
Sometimes,
toi don’t want to take.
They are those who expect toi to be great,
Even though,
Sometimes,
toi prefer to be small and humble.
But do toi think,
For the slightest second,
That they care about that?
They don’t!
They are your parents,
Your grandparents,
Your Uncles and aunts,
That since toi were born,
Came up with a path for toi in life.
But know this,
And say it to yourself:
They are those, they matter,
But me is I,
And I’m the main character.
Sitting right where toi are
toi have no claim on me
I know my own path
I am my own guide
toi are nothing to me
No matter how toi try
What do toi care?
If I'm not doing it right
I'm not following you
I know my own path
I am my own guide
toi don't know me
No matter how toi try
Why are toi here?
toi know I don't want you
I told toi to leave me
I am my own path
I know my own guide
toi can't mold me
No matter how toi try
Why do I feel compelled to write angsty poetry? I swear I'm not even that angsty. MDR Oh well, I hope someone out there enjoys it.
A whisper in the cavern that goes unheard,
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved par any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind ou fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
ou accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will toi take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop chant of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even par taking one step forward,
par placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
toi will realize the cage has already been broken.
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved par any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind ou fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
ou accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will toi take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop chant of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even par taking one step forward,
par placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
toi will realize the cage has already been broken.