Wednesday, January 30, 2013
A Poem (with bonus lack of practical jokes)
can you imagine a page for each day of your life?
your pen would break, your ink would dry, you'd have to turn to blood
and reams and reams of parchment could never stand the flood
insistent words, consistent lies, persistent loves, and failed tries
an endless battling dance between what should have been
and never was.
(a tiny thought recurrent
a tiny doubt infectant)
can you set on the page every twist of the knife?
the blood that flowed, the tears that fell, the shattering of hearts
the desperate calls for help made by your smallest meanest parts
compliant nerves, reliant tears, defiant words, and common fears
an acrobatic turn atop a trembling wire
of failing thoughts.
(a tiny need expectant
a tiny hope concurrent)
can you recall the page once it's turned on your life?
the dreams so short, the joys so brief, the spaces in between
the vivid moments spotlit by your memory's wildest sheen
resistant minds, assistant hands, existent sighs, and final stands
an over-arching tribute to the consequence
of being seen.