The flowers of the garden, not quite the same, when you’re not here,
The roses smell none, or look any, when you disappear.
The daffodils not as bright yellow, as the Vincent’s paintings,
The purple of violets not quite as deep, and quite as clear.
The touch-me-not plant is begging for your presence, and care not,
That your touch may fold the leaf in, she only cares for you dear.
The big shot nightingale comes to the garden, to replace you,
She sings a love song for the flowers, but nobody can hear.
The tulip lingers, as the leaves fan the red amber to glow,
The chill may set in, if you stay away long, that’s our fear.
The ladybug’s larva refuses to eat, wants not to grow,
The mother ladybug refuses to fly, rejecting peer.
The rain has forsaken the garden, the soil is hard and dry,
The flowers are bowing to the sun, revelation is near.
Arrive sooner, we waited long enough, and our patience thin,
It’ll all disappear, we are down, to the last drop of tear.
The night, does not satisfy the awake, no more, let’s call it a day,
The eyelids kiss each other, longer than before, let’s call it a day.
The candle of reality burns into a dream, without a trace,
The butterfly of the beating heart, on the shore, let’s call it a day.
Sleep comes like death, an unruly thief, through an open window,
Steals the conscious, walks away out the front door, let’s call it a day.
We argued all night, kicked a beaten dead horse, again and again,
The horse can’t change its color, it’s dead to the core, let’s call it a day.
The story’s the same on TV, the same monopoly on thoughts,
The tears have dried up, crying is causing sore, let’s call it a day.
We have decided long ago, that there’ll be no winner in this war,
What on earth, or hell, do we keep fighting for? let’s call it a day.
I am quite sure, that I’m on my way to a happier place,
Happiness keeps dragging feet, and is not sure, let’s call it a day.
Like I said, you can have the glory of the roller coaster ride,
I’m throwing up, and need my feet on the floor, let’s call it a day.
You know what hurts the most, and creates a pain, sitting on the fence,
Feels like a kick in the guts, again and again, sitting on the fence.
You can’t decide to go left or right, still wanting to look pretty,
Like a rainbow on a sunny day with the rain, sitting on the fence.
The water has to choose to be a calm ocean, or the great flood,
Awaiting to become, you go down the drain, sitting on the fence.
You don’t know how to think, with emotions, or based on the intellect,
You are stuck between the heart and the brain, sitting on the fence.
You are looking for a win-win solution to apply to all,
You keep a ledger book, for the loss and the gain, sitting on the fence.
You forgot when to take a stand, or how to walk for a cause,
You have been paralyzed, and need a cane, sitting on the fence.
They got you buffaloed with news and messages from the war,
You can’t see the slavery, the balls and chain, sitting on the fence.
The lunatics say, if you are not with us, you are against us,
The insane gets the idea, you’re acting sane, sitting on the fence.
Mace Hosseini, was born in a small village in northern Iran. He attended university of Shiraz, where he studied the poetry of renowned Persian poets. He graduated from university of Windsor and is retired now. He has self-published a book of poems, “The Lessons of the Soul”, on Amazon.