Lest I forget
The worlds from which I came
Throw me in thy brig
Whilst the waves cast me shame
Am not I the keeper of my mind?
The mind inside my head
Lest I forget
The worlds from which I came
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:06 PM UTC
Early morn' her door whined
open. Content to see her rest,
he strode off to grab the black .45
and one decrepit lawn chair.
Out across the pasture marched the man.
Still too young to die
though he did not look it.
The malignancy flushed from his veins;
a bleeding, seeping hole left in place.
But now, the sun was rising
and with it,
painless rest at last.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
Stroke by stroke,
moment by moment,
love is like the painter's
masterpiece.
We paint this picture with
gleeful hands, but it will
never truly finish.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC