The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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I'm Tired: A Poem

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I'M TIRED

I'm tired of being afraid,
Of my neighbors and my friends,
I'm tired of people hating,
One another for what is,
Or isn't on their chin.

I'm tired of the fighting,
Between the ass and the trunk,
I'm tired of the "expert advice",
That makes me feel punch drunk.

I'm tired of all the biased lies,
In pixels and on the air,
I'm tired of slanted stories,
Disguised as human care.

I'm tired of living in fear,
Of dying if I touch my face.
I'm tired of being told,
It's changed the human race.

Wear your mask,
You heartless wretch,
Or many more may die.
I've worn the stupid mask,
Since the 20th of July.
The daily stats of growing fear,
Show it's effectiveness a lie.

I'm tired of the scandals,
From priests up to the Pope,
Do as we say, not as we do,
Kills virtuous hope.

I'm tired of stories of sexual abuse,
By hands that are supposed to heal!
I'm tired of stories of financial abuse,
What happened to - thou shalt not steal!

I'm tired people dying,
Because they are white or black,
We're all brothers from another mother,
And sisters in the Divine,
Turn the hate into love,
Before we're out of time.

I'm tired of the killing,
Of babies in the womb.
It's not the world with little space,
It's our hears that have no room.

I'm tired of the stuff,
That fills my shelves,
That ways me down,
That I'm told I can't be...
Strong,
Beautiful,
Or popular....without.

I'm tired of being tired,
Of all the cares of this world,
I'm tired of worrying for the future,
Of every boy and girl.

I'm tired of not hugging,
And spending time with friends,
Their absence makes me realize, 
We weren't made for this.

I'm tired of not seeing smiles,
That glow with sparking eyes,
I'm tired of not seeing your face,
And knowing that you are fine.

I'm tired, O' so tired,
Of living life this way,
But I'm NOT tired of trying!!
That's what I want to say.

And I want to say, I LOVE YOU,
You mean a lot to me,
So let's be tired together,
And fight through this to brighter days,
Our hope lies in each other,
And it pushes darkness away.

Don't give up the fight,
Cling to me tight,
Hope gives fear fright,
One day it will be alright.

I'm tired of today,
I'm tired of the sorrow,
But you and I are hopeful,
Let's hold on until tomorrow.

More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in The Last Dragon and Other Poems available now.


Click here to read more from James M. Hahn - Blog - Books 
Check out his ongoing memoir about life with his special-needs daughter.

If you'd like to make a donation to help get this book about Catherine completed, our family would greatly appreciate that and you'll be the first to know when it's ready.

God bless you - Jim Hahn
* Contains affiliate links. No, that doesn't mean that the kids should leave the room. Rather, it means that if you click on a link, and if you purchase something, I may get some financial remuneration for that click and buy. All that means is that my kids will finally get to eat, just kidding but I may get something, just so you know...

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