“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 not said. Show all posts
Showing posts with label not said. Show all posts
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Around noun
This is the thing,
I cannot finish a single-
Here's the other-
I understand that I am needed, required even
to do that-
Elsewhere,
I was looking for that thing,
behind me,
remind me, what was I seeking?
What was our-
did we love each other?
There is some-
he wants to say
that is coming
that is waiting...
So I am left
I put one word after the period,
begin again
and see no-
Painting by Domenico Remps, 'Cabinet of curiosities' c. 1690 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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