Betwixt The Rebel And The Deep Blue Suit Poem by H E Alexander

I came upon this hippy once
and thence he said to me:
'Your hair's too short, man, let it grow;
'freedom, man, be free!
'Take a drag, swallow a pill;
'don't walk this route,
'nor sing this tune
'without your own free will.'

'Don't worry, ' said he, 'about the rules;
'they're there to keep you down,
'so long as you don't do no harm,
'just spread the love around.
'Listen to the music, dude,
'dig the earth, hug the trees,
'coolly shoot the breeze,
'whatever takes your mood.' 

Around a corner along the road
I turned into a smart young guy:
'Hello, ' he said, 'you're all alone,
'are you going the same way as I? '
'I must journey before I wilt;
'for I stride along
'this path, forlorn,
'down-weighed with Catholic guilt.'

'My friend, ' he said, 'you must toe the line,
'don't stray too far from narrow.
'Work hard; true and honest be,
'shoot straight with a fine-tipped arrow.'
'The rules, ' said he, 'are rigid set
'in custom and belief.
'Live good your life;
'let not your last breath taste regret.'

Further forth I came upon a 'T'
where there stood a finger post,
not able to decide which way
to go, here I did linger most.
Gilt apple or forbidden fruit,
there stood I, transfixed:
caught was I, betwixt
the rebel and the deep blue suit.