Poems and Stories by M. Brown
Iíve been writing poems and short stories since I was a teenage. Unfortunately I donít have the time anymore to keep these webpages up to date. But I hope you find them interesting.
Do you recognise this woman?
Her skin is rather grey,
Dragging from the bone.
But think of her alive,
Her hair free of seaweed,
Blowing in the wind.
Do you recognise her?
A hard fact, that weíre born on a day,
Not this day, but one like it
With the same number and name
A year, or many ago.
Some are forced, dragged in chains
To celebrate from the first
This memory of a day
Of the living scream
Others, more joyous in tones,
In delight at a party and act the
Excited as a puppy, wagging.
Regardless, we have a choice
To spend this mock day
Starving from lack of laughter
Or in gluttony with friends.
And so what message should I take
that last year I fed you smiles,
and now you order gluttony
A white haired woman lies dead in a bed.
She is wraped in sheets, a shroud
We, family stand with heads bowed
thankful that she died.
Do you ask how this could be or do you see.
She is srivled to crumbled bone, a corpse
and that We, her family stand with mumbled sobs
wishing we did not need to be thankful.