Into The Sunset

Their eyes light up as they watch the screen
Their baby blip is now a little smaller than a spleen
When their little bundle of joy gave a cry
To be the world's best parents they promised to try
The little one lacked nothing
His stuffed bear around the room did he fling
But mummy and daddy laughed
And his blue pillows they fluffed
They watched in awe as he took his first step
Their eyes filled tears as for life they watched him prep
They felt bittersweet as he rode his first bike into the sunset
They watch him pedal furiously and their anxiety try to forget
They wave him away, little face, in the big school bus
They hoped without them he wouldn't make a fuss
He didn't and maybe instead of happy they should worry
Their tow headed boy always independent
Not for homework, or for amusement was he ever dependent
Yet baby or teen he always did well
Always managed with everything his perspective to tell
Of him they were fiercely proud
He was never too brash or loud
He had some queer ideals
And to the world's thoughts he refused to kneel
One day he decided to go answer his inner call
To live simply and let into place the pieces fall
They watched and waited worried
They longed to hear yet no letter, no call hurried
While their darling boy over high mountains did glide
They died a little more everyday inside
Everyday day they looked into the same sunset
Perhaps like those many years before, him riding back did they expect
But he never came back
How? Oh How? In this one thing could he lack..

I wrote this final poem in an attempt to show how perhaps Chris' parents might have felt about their son when he never did come back home. However they might have been otherwise, they probably still put a lot of effort into raising their son and any parent would feel terrible to see a part of themselves, their most cherished part leave the house and never even come back because left for a risky adventure. I wanted the poem to show how heart wrenching it must be for a parent to lose a child and even more so because in a way it was the child's choice.

Gracious for Gold

                                                                               

Glinting gold

To be gratefu for that                     They say it’s a trap

                                                           Maybe it’s the time                  What if it isn’t

                                                       Won’t be such a feat                           What if it simply is livelihood

           Maybe then Mother Nature                                       It provides means to an end

                             Mountain top                                      An opportunity  to fend

                           For that windswept                                          Against a world, a cruel one           

             then you won’t long                                           With cold and hunger

                    Frost his bones                                                And needs and wants

Feels the cold biting wind                                               Poverty is akin to death

                 Who sleeps under the bridge                                             You can only live on happiness

                                                     Talk to the man                                               For so long

           Eats everyday                                           It won’t fill beliies

Sleeps in a warm bed                                    And it won’t pay bills

                                                 It is not everyone who                               Perhaps it is wrong

                                                Enjoy the life you deserve                   To feel satisfaction

                                                                 Despite the money            When you taste hard earned bread

                                                         To try be a better person      To want more

                                                                  Isn’t it more prudent      If so, I am culpable 




I decided to write this poem because of  how the book frequently mentions money and how Chris came from a wealthy family but decided he had had enough of the rich lifestyle, he burned all his money and donated what he had in his account and while it was a noble gesture it is ironic that he starved to death when $24,000 could have bought him so much. I think although it is great to think about beinng free and living off the land it is important to realize that what about those who don't have a choice? I wonder how bad they would feel about burning even one dollar, perhaps they would be burning a day's meal, with that burning a chance to survive. Although interesting this way of life doesn't seem to result in the best endings, even with the other examples John gave in the book. 
I like this style of poetry generally used by e e cummings. It shows how torn I felt when I considered what I thought was wasting money and a chance at a good livelihood. The lettering makes me think of the words trembling in the cold wind perhaps like Chris did and of holes which is almost what is body developed due to starvation. I would be grateful for oppurtunity and wealth everyday and would never be quite so cavalier about it.