I'm sceptical of the Dutch One of them stole my beloved He was a painter Made her beautiful on canvas And she fell in love I wrote a poem on a torn Piece of paper- And I’m not a Lutheran- Nailed it on her door The usual stuff of the aching heart The painter got arthritis In his hands Could not hold a paint brush She sent him to nursing home And now she smiles at me
Does your soul writhe in guilt in the depths of the night? Do you drift through the universe When sleep gently kisses your deceitful brow? In a fragmented world As you carelessly dream And I silently scream
Wandering idly with little thought of others Stumbling foolishly from star to star Closing your eyes to the affliction Casting glances on hearts afar In your dreams Do you hear my screams?
Does your soul tremble with remembrance of words? In the black of the night? As I spread my dark wings of vengeance Ascending fiercely Into waiting fiery skies While I dream And you scream
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Feb. 25, 2017