I sit at the portal day after day.
Gnostic information, news and images
fill my mind, but do not satisfy.
I learn and learn, but I do not grow.
Ghastly pictures of carnage come and go.
So much more than I can ever weep for.
Why is it then, that times of too much tenderness,
make me cry?
What is it about a loving gesture
that breaks the dam?
Perhaps because it is too late..
Aug 23, 2011
Aug 23, 2011 at 2:56 AM UTC
I sit at the portal day after day.
Gnostic information, news and images
fill my mind, but do not satisfy.
I learn and learn, but I do not grow.
Ghastly pictures of carnage come and go.
So much more than I can ever weep for.
Why is it then, that times of too much tenderness,
make me cry?
What is it about a loving gesture
that breaks the dam?
Perhaps because it is too late..
A modern Lady of Shalott
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