Young Writers Society

Remember what was said about the weather?
Two hundred years ago, ‘twas capricious.
Well that was just a metaphor for knowledge,
and all the things it hides, like a dream within a dream,
realisation will strike you twice more.
Once in the heart and once in the head, in years to come.
I’ll speak less in riddles now yet no more in rhyme,
do (you) remember the bullies, who were so ignorant
as to consider themselves friends?
The bullies bullied him and they laughed and they joked.
Yet he felt okay when the day was over.
But his capricious tongue from his capricious head
proved his descent into anarchy. (Or perhaps ascent).
And now once again the riddles return.
from whence the wise man came.
Ancient in head but not in heart,
'tis how the youthful feel,
with their foolish ways.
Whilst the weather man,
he may be mad,
but there is no genius without a dose of insanity.
And he is a wanderer and a hero,
one with no struggle or adversity.
Yet.