A Poem by Tate Morgan


God once thought to give me a choice
by offering the chance to choose
I stood bold stance, and took that chance
to ever walk within his shoes

He then offered me five choices
Fame, Love, Riches, Pleasure, and Death
I will have won, when it's all done
so I thought as I caught my breath

Then so it was I chose Pleasure
with the thought to enjoy my youth
To run with the boys, through life's joys
happiness was my only truth

Pleasures that youth delights upon
were disappointing, then grew cold
Sun setting play, that every day
trickled my fingers through, like gold

So once again he came to me
"surely wisdom has found you now"
"Choose your fate, before it's too late
as I said, this I will allow"

"Fame" I said as he smirked at me
"I wish to be a man renowned"
"To play life's game, that touts my name
as one deserving of the crown"

But Fame was a fickled master
that led to Envy, Greed and Lust
A shinning star and giant car
that in the end had turned to rust

Once more God offered me a choice
of the few things that still remain
"Besides birth, only one has worth
try using your heart, not your brain"

"Riches then" I did say to him
"surely they can cure all my pain"
"To do what I can as a man
by amassing what I may gain"

Wealth was not the answer I sought
left me with nothing of what I won
When in the end, I had no friend
to rejoice in what I had done

So one last time he gave me choice
"Love" I said is what I would like
"A woman's breast, where I may rest
perhaps even a little tyke"

The time it passed so quickly by
as I then sat beside her grave
A-wash in tears, for all those years
spent chasing dreams, that none could save

"My life has run it's course" I said
"your final choice is the worst yet"
"My love I lost, at such a cost
all that's left of me is regret"

He said "since you have not asked me
for advice on what you should do"
"I gave Death in a dying breath
to one more deserving than you!"

" Why won't you grant me rest" I said
"what more is there for me to learn"
" That a life of greed serves no need
live with old age, till it's your turn"


Tate




© 2012 Tate Morgan
Written April 21, 2012
All rights reserved

Shy
Wondering
Afraid to say what I feel
What I want

Scared
Stumbling
Words sticking in my throat
Dying to confess

Sweet
Innocent desires
The things I'm supposed to want
I do want them...

But
Underneath
There are deeper, darker wants
Dark, scary needs

Lust
Hot, heavy, stifling
Suffocating me with the weight of its urgency
Things I couldn't ever say

Shame
I feel...wrong
***** for wanting those things
For needing them

Yearning
I want to be hurt
I need to be controlled
To be shamelessly used

But
I can't tell
I can't make my brain let my mouth
Say the words burning inside me.

I
Can't
Tell him
How very badly
I need him
To forget
Just for a few hours
That he loves me
And only think
How much
He wants
To use me