It matters not what happened. the final hour is at hand and you are all dead men as ironically you have always been. My love she fights me because she's fears my strength. Embodied Chaos walking through darkness at a great length. Collectively you make me sick. When it's you and I, I fall in loves with God's intricate creation and I even giggle inside at your silly twinkle of the eye that says I'm here to stay. Sometimes I adore you and sometimes yes, I want to crush you like a hill of red ants. Nasty, mean and belligerant. Defying your own universe. You own power. How weak and stupid a child can be.
Author notes
Option 2: The Joys of parenthood! 
A contest entry
- 5 Options for the Creative Poet (26) by bananasfoster42.
700 points, ended June 18, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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oh snap...
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cute...scary...chaotic... i like it
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thanks for the entry!!!
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Chaos
Incarnate -
Oh, wow. Yeah, as divine children we're likely to want to throw a little rampage around. That's cool. I have thought about this too. I believe that God must be thoroughly entertained by his sick little babbies.
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i like this, as I did your other poems. Usually I read in silence, but with your poems I decided to read them out loud. What a difference it made. On the screen they're good, but read out loud it has an impact. You did a great job with this poem, it flows, and a very likable read.
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