I wanted to write a poem for you
because you're sad,
one you'll never read or know,
but one that will stay here and age,
an unremembered reminder of ends
and beginnings, of
growing old, and
staying the same.
I guess you could say ink and paper make the writer, and I guess that's why I choose not to use them.
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Friday, January 8, 2010
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Feeling Down?
There were cold nights,
the guns silent,
their barrels chilled and muted,
the sky havoc
with dancing particles,
of dust or something else,
like the empty bottles
strewn about our feet,
illuminated by our sorrow
there
time covers distances
transversed by
misunderstanding,
waiting for the sun,
the white clouds,
the smell of flowers
soon to be trampled
under fallen bodies,
we sleep
without any alternative.
the guns silent,
their barrels chilled and muted,
the sky havoc
with dancing particles,
of dust or something else,
like the empty bottles
strewn about our feet,
illuminated by our sorrow
there
time covers distances
transversed by
misunderstanding,
waiting for the sun,
the white clouds,
the smell of flowers
soon to be trampled
under fallen bodies,
we sleep
without any alternative.
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