I want something new,
That isn't love.
Love is old,
Over praised.
Too many sing,
About the joys,
Too many write,
About the pain.
Turn the page,
And feel the clean,
The gleam,
The ease of the unseen.
Feel something strong
That isn't frail,
Over used
In senseless gesture,
Given to the credit
Of a meaningless moment,
That is consumed in
Repeated pattern.
Shut your mouth,
And hear the silence,
The omnipotence,
And wise hearts guidence.
Apr 12, 2011
Apr 12, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
I want something new,
That isn't love.
Love is old,
Over praised.
Too many sing,
About the joys,
Too many write,
About the pain.
Turn the page,
And feel the clean,
The gleam,
The ease of the unseen.
Feel something strong
That isn't frail,
Over used
In senseless gesture,
Given to the credit
Of a meaningless moment,
That is consumed in
Repeated pattern.
Shut your mouth,
And hear the silence,
The omnipotence,
And wise hearts guidence.
Request permission to use this poem