Fun / Children's

Contented fool

A little boy
named Willy
was destined
to be silly
It was his fate
he couldn’t wait
he told his mum
he would be great
he wouldn’t care
what people say
he would be silly
every day

Was 8-years old
when first he told
his mother that
when he was old
he’d be the best –
the silliest
and it would be
his life-long quest.
She wasn’t sure
but tried her best
she didn’t think
he’d have the zest

But it was true
It came to pass
he grew up as
a silly ass
very skilled
at being daft
he never stopped
it was his craft.
Throughout his life
he played the fool
they laughed at him
each day at school

And when he had
to go to work
they all just thought
he was a jerk
his humour was
both blunt and snappy
effective though
and he was happy
When he died
he left a hole
and people missed
his cheerful soul

© Andy(ArT)Trigg 2001



I’m host to a siege carried out in my mind, I feel like the hostage and captor combined. I’ve been taken over by fragments empowered, and I want to break free but I act like a coward.

Feelings inside me have fed on my fears, suddenly living when dormant for years. I’m rejecting my island in search of things better but hurting my family and turning them bitter.

I’m in a small boat far away from the shore which is so far away I can see it no more. I’m tethered by rope and the rope is secure but I know that I can’t stay out here any more.

I have in my hand the sharpest of knives and to cut it will free me but damage some lives and I fear that I’d find with the passage of time that the worst of the damage could happen to mine.

If my hands pull the rope and I head back to shore will I even be welcome back there anymore? And what if I go back and stem the blood flow only later to damage much more if I go?

I’ve heard of islands where the weather is great but something inside says I’ve left it too late. My island is temperate, and has no extremes, are the ones that I look for just fanciful dreams?

Maybe my island is something to cherish or at least is a place where I’m able to flourish.
Maybe those islands that bask in sunshine have men, just like me, that lust after mine

© Andy(ArT)Trigg 2001