Someone asked
for a poem
about flowers
in your hair

Two weeks ago I would write it about daisies
peonies
and sunflowers that seem to match your style

A week ago I would write about the thorns from roses
the way it decomposes
when you leave them sit for a long while

Today I stare at the dried flowers on my wall
wishing you'd call
making a flower crown from dried flowers that made me smile

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                    Which Karamazov are You?

Wise Dostoyevksy
Writes with holy words the mysteries  
Of the Russian soul

I went to sleep last night
with someone
I hardly know
I woke up this morning
with someone
I don’t want to know
I went to sleep last night
like I always do
alone.

They say eyes are like
windows to the heart.
But yours are ever blind,
And mine are ever lost.

Losing my Path
Is not a worthy price
For keeping companionship

Your words
shape themselves
into blades and knives
and carve
deep into my heart,
the places I didn't know
existed.
Should I be glad that
I found new places
or
sad that I'm hurt?