Thank you Androyd.

More than a Man. The original.

I wrote this poem on the most horrible of days. My dad thinks I should enter it into the New Era or Ensign. I'm calling this one more than a man, because it was the same day that I wrote my other post called "More than a Man" I just wasn't sure I wanted to share my poem with the world yet. But now, I'm sure. :D


As I sit on the stain-
scattered porch,
my thoughts are jumbled
and I cannot think.
My mind throws disarays
at this world.
And the worlds and stars
and moons inbetween.
I wonder whether I should look up angels.
and I wonder if i should look up
HIM.
For I feel he is coming,
he is going to win.

He's simply my brother,
who was willing to do,
a choice given to others.
a choice given to me and to you.

But he was the one,
to speak up and say
"I will go and I will do,
and I will do this today!
I will help other people
because I can LOVE."
There are signs of his father,
by even a dove.

He loved his father,
and he did love his mum'
but he was the brother
that wanted his sib-a-lings home.
He wasn't the maker,
the creator of things.
He may have moved mountains,
but he may not have made diamond rings.

"But these are just things,
just things." he said.
and thats when he decided to
help his brother,
his neighbor instead.

He felt very happy
to help others out.
But he was scared of the pain,
others around him would shout.
They did not like this plan,
that was coming their way,
they didn't want to choose,
not tomorrow or today.

They wanted a different way,
of being understood.
But the leader they were following
just wasn't any good.
He didn't want things to be a choice,
he didn't want anyone to use their voice.
But I think he was thinking of how he'd have power.
If things were simply easier,
everyone could have some more hours.

But twas' not the thoughtful son,
nor the persuasive one.
It was mostly the father,
and he loved all his
SONS.

So, this is a story
a story, I say.
To make people think.
We gotta do something today!
He's on our side,
and now is the time to show.
But will we make that other choice,
and simply let him go?

No, I think not.
There is good in this place.
Simply a planet formation,
put hanging in space.
For people to LOVE.
To LEARN,
and to GROW.
to love every season,
even the snow.
To help others out,
when they need to borrow and say,
and to speak with their father,
everyday.

So be kind and be gentle,
like the guys with "the plan."
Love HIM EVERYday.

He suffered your pains,
and he was more than a man.

I just wrote a four page paper about this poem.

I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Cinder Elephant,
Sleeping Tubby,
Snow Weight,
where the princess is notanorexic,
wasp-waisted,
flinging herself down the stairs.

I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Hansel and Great,
Repoundsel,
Bounty and the Beast,
where the beauty has a pillowed breast,
and fingers plump as sausage.

I am thinking of a fairy tale,
that is not yet written,
for a teller not yet born,
for a listener not yet conceived,
for a world not yet won,
where everything round is good:
the sun, wheels, cookies, and the princess