“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label admit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label admit. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Accusations to try
I did not break in or force my way through
I did not let go
too early
I did not make you
do, say, or think maybe there is
more
I did not know more than you
I did not
do anything
About it
I did dig (in)
deeper than the surface layer
I did
hang on
longer than I should
I did give all I had, every day
which was not enough
somedays
I did want to quit
but did not.
I did grow too fast
and hit my head
on your ceiling
I did (not do)
all I could
to (not) deny
all that I
did
and I
did
not
do
enough
for I
before it was all
over
done and said.
Image By Arrow Films (site poster) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Tres (trace)
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...