It Will Never Be That Way Again (Perspective)

Doing more writing, but not having any more time, I'm working hard on trying to write spontaneously, with minimal thought. You have to bare in mind with that statement that I'm someone who thinks WAY too much, so "minimal" should be taken comparatively to my normal amount of thinking.

This poem was just a spontaneous run of thoughts and images that became a story, sort of in front of my eyes. It seems very literal, but really it's a parallel for many areas of life; the extreme fluxes and temporary periods we go through - usually (or should I say hopefully) learning an important lesson and being forever changed.

If I could sum up this poem in a word it would be "perspective" and hence I've added that to the title. A change in perspective can radically change the way we appreciate and value things. Our priorities and focus can be dramatically shifted by even a small change in perspective. It's a powerful thing.

I would like to take this opportunity to point out that Australians spell words such as "colour" or "favourite" as I just did, with the extra "u" compared with US spelling. In case anyone in the US was wondering.


It Will Never Be That Way Again (Perspective)

All the colours changed first
And then they blew away
Leaving bare twigs and barren beds
In what felt like a day

We wondered how something once so good
had turned so very bad
Once we were falling slow
Now on the bottom of the bag

"Well, at least things can't get worse"
Was the common comfort thought
Yet no comfort did we feel
Just a hard wooden floor

But in just a few short months
That floor seemed very good
Compared to the pavement which strangely
Feels harder than wood

Not to mention lacking once so standard things
Like a window, roof or door
A bare room is sure better than
No god-damned room at all

It felt like we were fighting
For our lives each frightening day
While in tireless pursuit
Of any possible way

To get food for myself
And this precious girl of mine
A half eaten burger
Was a treat at that strange time

I feel a deep seated shame
At what I did just to get through
But I know that what I did
Was simply what I had to do

I had a fresh black eye
The day my friend found me
It had been seven long years
Since we shared a dormitory

I was barely a shadow
of my former self but yet
They knew that it was me
and soon we had food and a bed

Our true smiles returned with effort and time
And those trials are far away
But one thing that I can say for sure
Is that I'm thankful every day

It will never be that way again