Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Wasted



Stole the blue
 from the morning sky
And used it to ink sorrow
Across my heart
Now newly tattooed
The only permanence that exists
In my autumn world
Of dead brown
And teasing gold
Where everything falls
After it finally changes
And nothing grows old
Just bare and cold

Now winter captures 
and consumes
These unfinished chapters
Though I’m too weary to rage
And tear off each white,
 wordless page

Just monotony and I
Snoozing through tomorrow’s alarm
And waking winded
 in a panic of forgotten tasks
a pond of wasted years
cupped in my palms
Splashing a face of unfaceable fears
Can’t revive the past
It’s all down the drain
Clogged with pain.



4 comments:

  1. This is beautiful and makes me want to hug you. ♥

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  2. Many people filter pain and beauty into their poetry, but no one I have read does it better than you do. I feel every single word here. You are a master of poetry. An absolute from the heart and soul MASTER.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Jo! That is an amazing compliment and you made my day!

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    2. Then we're even. Reading this made mine. ♥

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