Sigel's Poetry

I'm not very good at creating poetry yet but I have fun doing it anyway.

As God watches

We play our roles as we scurry along

Thinking that nobody sees

The secret life that we hide in ourselves

Why, we’re as busy as God’s little bees

Yet, each little action we think we invent

Records our intentions in full

For the end result will be seen by all

When the angels examine our wool

For, we’re sheep or we’re goats that’s admitted by all

Though we argue and bicker and fight

There’ll be no denying our obvious traits

When we enter heaven’s bright light

We’ll be put to the left or put to the right

And that’s just the start of the thing

As everything that we’ve ever done

Crushes our hearts as our hands start to wring

We’ll stutter and search for the tiniest thing

That could explain how we’ve fallen so far

Why, that couldn’t be us in that list of complaints

These charges just seem too bizarre

But we’ll know in our hearts that we did all those things

No matter how hard we defend

There’ll be nobody there to bolster our claim

And we’ll scream all the way to the end

As we goat to the left or sheep to the right

Our companions will fit by our side

We’ll wish that we took the narrowest path

But each day we craved the wide

You still have a chance to pick out the door

You’ll undoubtedly go through one day

Choose your path very carefully as you decide

For your debts you’re obliged to pay

Your soul is your own to do what you want

With results to the choices you make

You can cling to the one who has given His all

Or be fed to that treacherous snake

Franz Sigel Shroy

(From Matthew 25:31-46)

Two cats

I’ve got two cats, that’s plain to see

But that’s as far as commonness goes

Cause one’s as dumb as a block of cheese

And one’s got too many toes

They fight with each other & bicker a lot

But they’ll lick each other raw

Bathing themselves & each other as well

When they’re not fighting tooth and claw

I love these cats... most of the time

They amuse me & crack me up

But they sure have their moments every now & again

Will their antics never let up?

They’re asleep on the chair, big bundles of fur

Till they make their way to the box

Then the fumes fill the air & I’m holding my nose

I feel like I’m dying of the pox

The paint starts to melt & the air goes green

I don’t know what they’re trying to do

There’s something really powerful

In those little gifts of poo

I’ll get over the scent as soon as it clears

And they’ll sound like little boats

And then I’ll cry like a baby again

As soon as one of them croaks

Franz Sigel Shroy

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