Primavera, 24×24, oil on panel by Richard J Demato
He dug so perfectly well
and worked very hard,
but as soon as he came to the water of life,
he went from being so good
to being very bad.
He took to his heels as fast as he could,
and lost the nourishment that all
his work was supposed to bring.
Isn’t it unfortunate that a well-digger is dying of thirst
because of his fear of water?
Being born with a silver spoon in your mouth does not entitle you to dip your cutlery piece in anyone else’s meal, whenever and however you please.
Where do you run to when
your legs have been cut off?
What do you run to when
you can’t run anymore?
Who do you run to when
you’re highly desperate for legs?
When your hands have been cut off
and your mouth has been sewn shut,
nobody knows the things you don’t say;
the words won’t come nor stay.
Life doesn’t show us how to fly
when we lose our legs.
It teaches us that it’s okay to cry.
It teaches us how to walk without legs.
