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Sunday, December 30, 2012

Don't Hold Your Breath


Where does the poetry go
When it never gets written down?
I think it cries,
In the cracked corner of your frown
Where does a song go
When it never gets sung?
I think it dies alone,
Buried beneath a silent tongue.
Where do the words go,
when they’re never spoken to a love?
I think they sadly hide, like a somber face,
 behind its own winter glove…
and where are the legs
that never hop, skip, jump, or run?
They’re probably crossed in a chair
That sits in a bare room, knowing no fun

The saddest lips
Die holding their breath.
A soul that never exhales
never finds birth before death.

2 comments:

  1. I love this. It reminds me of the song, The Rose, which I love, too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I share this winter sadness. I fight everyday to just survive and smile lightly until I can run, jump and skip in the sun.

    ReplyDelete

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