gold
as a wedding band.
But it doesn’t shine
in my hand.

You can paint it
red
as blood.
But it won’t flow.
It makes a thud.

You can paint it
green
as clover.
But it only sits.
It won’t come over.

You can paint it
wearing a smile.
But it’ll not be happy –

It doesn’t have eyes
to look into mine.
It doesn’t have a mouth
to sing a note.
It doesn’t have arms
to hold me close.
It doesn’t have feet
to climb the mountain.

I lost a man from this planet.
He lives now under
a slab of granite.
Hard and gray as a stone.
All that's left of him are bones.

The heart never stops sinking
And it’s felt low and immensely
High and intensely

An emotional seizure

The mind never stops thinking
And it’s thought deep and over caring
Cold and overbearing

Death is our leisure

©