We often wonder and question,
the meaning of life.
Focusing our attention,
on a three letter word.

The flaw in our nature;
endlessly analyzing.
With a need to understand,
and be reassured.

A vast ocean of opinions,
each an interpretation.
Never truly certain,
of what remains unknown.

Blinded with ungratefulness,
our gifts' wasted; unnoticed.
Failing to recognize,
the kindness shown.

The sun on this warm day,
shed's light to a new dawn.
Embracing this found focus,
not on why, but W.H.Y.

Wisdom, Humor, Youth.
To live each day wisely,
as eagerly as a child,
laughing until you cry.

1444

A little Snow was here and there
Disseminated in her Hair—
Since she and I had met and played
Decade had gathered to Decade—

But Time had added not obtained
Impregnable the Rose
For summer too indelible
Too obdurate for Snows—

Early hours; the
parts of sleep
     recalled;
          a fly opening
        it's silk cocoon,
   a foetus moving
in a jelly womb,
   irises and corneas
         assembling into eyes
                    eager to explore
                a world outside;
      those first times
when regrets are
               abstract concepts
                             not feelings
                        growing roots
       in subconscious pools;
all the things I'd redo,
              my deepest desire
                              to be anew

By: Cedric McClester

Paranoia tends to grow
Cuz people fear what
They don’t know
Still they refuse to learn
And so
We still have quite
A ways to go

Conveniently we forget
Our ugly history
And yet
We fail to feel
A sense of debt
And rarely show
Any regret

I remember
Lynchings still
And truthfully
I always will
Think about
Poor Emmitt Till
By now I think
You know the drill

America the beautiful
Hasn’t always been
Benevolent when it comes
To men of colored skin
But this is now
And that was then
So I guess
We just pretend






Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016,  All rights reserved.