Tossed Salads & Scrambled Eggs

For my next trick, and therefore, my second task worth three-and-a-half stars instead of four, I wrote, and recited, an original poem based on the themes of Mitchell’s Hot Topics; this poem focused on the red, orange and yellow coloring scheme the site largely has, up to, and including, the chrysanthemum background, and how said flower resembled the illusion of dancing flames. The poem was aptly named “Atomic Garden,” after the Bad Religion song of the same name, and focuses on my on-again, off-again ability to comprehend current events, both at home and abroad, as well as my personal anxieties and long-standing fear of letting others down, if not myself; even now, I still suspect that doing what I think is right could still lead to my destruction, a behavioral pattern I’m trying to stop.

Why in the world should I be afraid,
Of Father Time giving me a failing grade,
When I’d rather stop to smell the flowers,
Than talk of the latest outrage for hours?
It isn’t like the neighbors will decide
When I can run, and where to hide.

I want to be where the people are,
But I don’t think they’d even want to see me from afar.
I want to be heard on the grandest stage,
But I fear what I say will unleash someone’s rage.
It isn’t that I’m bad at my craft. I’m not,
But these days, it seems that everyone’s getting caught.

The thing is, in darkness, there must be light.
In times of hunger, we must take a bite.
I have to stop being so paranoid,
About this so-called heart-shaped void.
There are issues to address! The people must know!
Stop hiding in your past, kid. Let everything show!

Well, if it will help me stop being so shy,
I’ll tell you my one true reason why.
The things that give me the most terrible fright
Are the things we don’t notice, because they’re hidden in plain sight.
The crysanthemum, that you hold in your hand,
Is perdition’s flame, burning alongside time’s sand.

September 19th, 2015 by
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