As trite and gray as words
become with time, my heart
becomes an ashen leaf
in fall; or kitschy art;
or something even deader,
as old coals, so far abstract
from life that words should give
them meaning; In fact,
that I might be troubled
to convey this worthless stuff,
I find the lackingness of language
barely dead enough.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 5:21 PM UTC
As trite and gray as words
become with time, my heart
becomes an ashen leaf
in fall; or kitschy art;
or something even deader,
as old coals, so far abstract
from life that words should give
them meaning; In fact,
that I might be troubled
to convey this worthless stuff,
I find the lackingness of language
barely dead enough.
© K.E. Parks, 2012
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