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mary-gay-kearnsPoems
I couldn’t tell you why Not here and now at least You would never understand Could not understand. The structure of our thoughts Make such complexity impossible The greatest sadness is that our lives Are lived out in such perverse ignorance All that we remember is the apartness How we bind ourselves in love to lies. Sorrow is like the shattering of glass Broken biscuits in tins The howl of the workhouse We as frail as a bird’s wing. Love Mary Xxxx
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Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
In a tin.
I couldn’t tell you why Not here and now at least You would never understand Could not understand. The structure of our thoughts Make such complexity impossible The greatest sadness is that our lives Are lived out in such perverse ignorance All that we remember is the apartness How we bind ourselves in love to lies. Sorrow is like the shattering of glass Broken biscuits in tins The howl of the workhouse We as frail as a bird’s wing. Love Mary Xxxx
Written by
mary-gay-kearns
67/F/Hertfordshire , UK
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
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