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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1979271
Morale of the story. Don't be a comformist.
As I saw a bench and sat down,
A man, that came, was wearing a crown
He handed me a piece of bread.
His hands and feet were completely red.

“Eat this, my child”, he said,
“I came here just to bring you aid.”
“Sir,” I replied, “I appreciate this
But I already have an Oasis.”

“Then you can have both,” He replied.
“So you can calm your hunger and thirst.”
I began to stare at his blue eyes,
That looked like the bluish skies.

I’ve never seen such a glorious face,
Nothing similar to the human race.
Perhaps he was from Heaven
Or perhaps he was from Hell.

“You have strange blue eyes,” I said,
While staring at his eyes.
“Who do you get them from?”
“I inherited from my Father.” He replied.

That’s when my question was answered.
His eyes were blue like the bluish skies,
Because he came from the Heavenly Father.
Who lives beyond the beautiful skies.

I took the bread and took the water.
I ate and drank as if nothing else mattered.
I never felt such a satisfaction
That was always an impossible reaction.
© Copyright 2014 Carolina Espinosa (lezboricua88 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1979271-Satisfaction