Post #11
My wittiest poem yet, enjoy

I've seen those Giant Pyramids of Egypt.
from clear up in the sky.

work, work, work.
never stopping,
sand is dropping,
til they die.

never running out of breath.
a little higher,
build that tower,
til your death.

like an astronaut from outer space
looking down into their place,
I just wonder what it is,
all those puny eyes do see.

As I tower overhead,
why do they always run?
never stopping,
more sand is dropping,
even after the job is done.

Their pyramid is growing,
higher up into their sky.
are they trying to reach the heavens?
I wonder and question why?

those slaves are working,
never shirking,
though they never seem to mind.

The Queen's Guards are whipping,
more sand needs shipping,
need mortar to make more bricks.

hurry, hurry, faster, faster.
bring more bunches of grass and sticks.

whipping,
stripping,
slaving hoards.
why don't they just rebel.

toiling, boiling in the hottest sun.
to me their lives a living hell.
day and night but they never fight.
does not their anger swell?

It's slavery!
Not bravery!
this must be their lot in life.
Just respect it!
don't reject it!
and there will be no strife.

"Bring me food" is what the Queen Commands
for I must feed my children.
These towers I will leave behind for them.

"Single file, you all must go,
bring back what you can."
they stay in line time after time,
following all the Queens command.

From up above I'm looking down,
those mighty pyramids they've built.
"they must have spent a life time,"
oh the things they've sacrificed...and spilt!

...love (pause for thought)
...life (pause for thought)
...freedom (pause for thought)

...blood! (pause for thought)
...sweat! (pause for thought)
...tears! (pause for thought)

...pain! and don't forget the worries of too much rain.

_____________

Then from over head I laugh out loud,
and just think to myself.
"their puny lives are soon to be put on tilt."

_________

Towering up above them,
My giant foot I raise.
then it comes crashing down
their tiny hearts dismayed.

they have become so frantic,
all running everywhere.
crazy, crazy, frantic.
their lives, complete despair.

__________

and so I have no time,
to even stop or think.
"Here it is", the ball they hit,
there's not even time to blink.

running speedily back through the grass,
back from whence I came.
I throw that ball as hard as I can
"He's Safe!" the referee exclaims!.

"Come on Dave, what the heck?
your slowness puts out team to shame
your taking too much time out there
Lets get back in the game."

then for just an instant,
nothing more and nothing less.
I think about those tiny ants,
of all the lives
I've made a mess.

What will happen to them now?
what will be their plight?
will they all just scatter?
is freedom in their sight?

what I did is okay I think,
cause slavery is so wrong
maybe I just helped them out
It's about time they move along.

those little ants are free to go
Its time they forget their past
no more soldiers to guard them,
they've now been "freed at last."

well...well... do tell... do tell...
"at least the ones I did not smash."

© David W. Smith 2009
davidsmith03@comcast.net
___________

My creations are to be published in book form one day in the near future. So I am asking that any of my readers please respect my copyrights, If you would like to use any of my poems for any purpose whatsoever, I ask that you please contact me via E-mail. and please explain for what purpose.
My (© David W. Smith 2009 info and E-mail address)
must stay with any and all of my poems. thank you.

If there are publishers who love my works and are interest in sitting down and discussing options, I am Interested in publishing. please contact me via E-mail, thank you.

Yours David W. Smith