"resigning" poems
Imagine being a trapped fly
Resigning to a trapped life.
Your limbs flail about in despair
Your wings buzz in a futile escape attempt.
Indignation at first, that rapidly fades
Into confusion, anxiety, fear clutching your insides
Till you lose all hope, silently wait to die
And you realise
It's the same scared light you see in man's eyes.
Imagine...being a trapped fly
Resigning to a trapped life.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:30 AM UTC
I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?
Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.
I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful Face Of Hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.
She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.
I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.
She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.
I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
Yet, my pretty sportive friend,
Little is’t to such an end
That I praise thy rareness!
Other dogs may be thy peers
Haply in these drooping ears,
And this glossy fairness.
But of thee it shall be said,
This dog watched beside a bed
Day and night unweary—
Watched within a curtained room,
Where no sunbeam brake the gloom
Round the sick and dreary.
Roses, gathered for a vase,
In that chamber died apace,
Beam and breeze resigning.
This dog only, waited on,
Knowing that when light is gone
Love remains for shining.
Other dogs in thymy dew
Tracked the hares, and followed through
Sunny moor or meadow.
This dog only, crept and crept
Next a languid cheek that slept,
Sharing in the shadow.
Other dogs of loyal cheer
Bounded at the whistle clear,
Up the woodside hieing.
This dog only, watched in reach
Of a faintly uttered speech,
Or a louder sighing.
And if one or two quick tears
Dropped upon his glossy ears,
Or a sigh came double—
Up he sprang in eager haste,
Fawning, fondling, breathing fast,
In a tender trouble.
And this dog was satisfied
If a pale thin hand would glide
Down his dewlaps sloping—
Which he pushed his nose within,
After—platforming his chin
On the palm left open.
4.3k
here is something that
mother told me
about god complexes:
“everyone believes themselves
to be gods among men:
even that hideous monster from your
half-remembered Hellenistic dreams
will retreat back to
his craggy hideaway and continue
with his hedonistic ways.
the poor creature:
he will don a halo,
iconize himself in caricatures
pretending that if for a moment
his veins flow ichorous that
Icarus may have envied when his wings
beat in tandem with the footfalls of
the sun chariots’ horses.
“the sun shines upon
hallowed ground, though Polyphemus
will avoid Helios’s scornful gaze.
he herds sheep––his only acolytes––
an unabashed king in his realm,
like a god plays war, or as a child
would play house,
humming hallelujah,
veins running gold-blooded.
when moon rises,
he will hang his weary
shadow at his door and retreat
to his fire-pit. perhaps this will be
the closest he will be to the gods,
basking in the heat of Hestia’s
humble hearth.
“in the end,” mother said,
“Nobody will end up deified.
Icarus may have rained down wax and
feathers in godlike fury
before tilting his head to Helios once more;
Polyphemus waded into the sea,
eyes clouded in godlike fury
before resigning himself to fate, head bowed.”
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:24 PM UTC
******* of suckling cheeks
taste of wine gone vinegar
left out too long exposed
to sunlight
twice ways between nowhere
we drank a bottle or four
before resigning ourselves
to defeat
we woke so many mornings
in drawn shade sunlight
with our heads split twain
by buzzing
we'd never known what it
was to taste hurt or defeat
until we likened our arguments
to chemistry
Feb 16, 2023
Feb 16, 2023 at 10:52 PM UTC
Man. Sweetest Saviour, if my soul
Were but worth the having,
Quickly should I then control
Any thought of waving.
But when all my care and pains
Cannot give the name of gains
To Thy wretch so full of stains,
What delight or hope remains?
Saviour. What, child, is the balance thine,
Thine the poise and measure?
If I say, ‘Thou shalt be Mine,’
Finger not My treasure.
What the gains in having thee
Do amount to, only He
Who for man was sold can see;
That transferr’d th’ accounts to Me.
Man. But as I can see no merit
Leading to this favour,
So the way to fit me for it
Is beyond my savour.
As the reason, then, is Thine,
So the way is none of mine;
I disclaim the whole design;
Sin disclaims and I resign.
Saviour. That is all: if that I could
Get without repining;
And My clay, My creature, would
Follow My resigning;
That as I did freely part
With My glory and desert,
Left all joys to feel all smart——
Man. Ah, no more! Thou break’st my heart!
2.1k
I'm not going to the pizzeria today
Hell no, I'm not going to that pizzeria today
To go in and scrub the dishes
The bleach is burning my skin
And insect crawling on the food
While my time is just wasting
I refuse to wash another bin or tray
I'm not going to the pizzeria today
I'm not going on that sinking ship today
Forget that, I'n not getting on that sinking ship today
We have a sushi place across the street
Another pizzeria two doors down
They also own the bagel shop between us
And when bakery opens, I won't be around
I'm sorry, but I certainly can't stay
I'm abandoning this sinking ship today
I'm resigning from this bad business today
That it, I'm done with this bad business today
The boss ignored the IRS for months
They came, emptied the registers and shut us down
Sometimes there's no money in the bank
So every now and then all our checks bounce
I work for six ours for $8.25, I expect to get paid
That's it I've had it with this bad business today
I'm giving up on this lost cause today
Yes, I'm giving up on this lost cause today
It fell apart when they switched hands
Two parents bought it for their sons
And they plowed it into the ground
One's on coke and the others just dumb
When they're parents come in they have nothing to say
I'm giving up on this lost cause today
I'm not going into work today
I can not go into work today
Where the employees could care less but still try their best
And the boss act like two year old
Where we get bi weekly pay and everyday is slow
And the pizza in the case is cold
I'm giving in my two weeks notice and going on my way
There is nothing that can make me go to that godforsaken pizzeria today
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
As a silly spoilt child
Disgruntled I grumble
Throughout my blessed life
Complaining about my loss
That God does not give a toss
But abundantly in my life
Scattered in my garden
Live deep hidden forests
Sacred special spaces
Forgotten mossy places
Things I can not see
In my soft mossy pastures
I am drawn into sound
Soft rich earthy ground
My meddling hands resigning
And my heart softening
To the treasures God is bringing
As a child I am sometimes
still screaming for what
I am not receiving
Even though chosen
But my loving Father
Always refusing to
serve me poison
But he keeps on giving
Life's unexpected gifts
Full of presents and parcels
An unknown cultivated Karma
A forgotten ignored pleasure
Actually look at all the treasure
Everyday a Christmas tree
If I could only look and see
So in my adult days
I learn to look on
In different ways
With a mossy heart
I nourished and softening
receiving parcels tenderly
passed down from heaven
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Words by: Willyam Pax
Music by: Daisie Partido Vergara
How far would I go to love you?
How many times would I dive in River Bayou.
Loving you this way seems isn't enough
I longed for you to give me a chance, ohh...
Would my love be enough for you?
Or you'll disregard me for what I have at hand?
Would you leave me in shades of black or blue.
My love is bare because I care, my love
Refrain:
Would you give me a little bit of love in advance?
Would you give me a chance to see you stay.
So much as I breathe your essence like air
I was so tired even though I tried my very best
Sometimes I feel like giving-up,
But resigning wouldn't do anything to stop
This heart that beats only for you somehow ask
How far would I go to love you?
I know I don't have everything
For I survive with just some little things,
Enough for me to live this kind of life
And even my choices are full of strife
Refrain:
Would you give me a little bit of love in advance?
Would you give me a chance to see you stay.
So much as I breathe your essence like air
I was so tired even though I tried my very best
Sometimes I feel like giving-up,
But resigning wouldn't do anything to stop
This heart that beats only for you somehow ask
How far would I go to love you?
Original poem:
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/willyampax/1346413/">
How far would I go to love you?
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
They say it's a free world and I have the freedom to speak my mind.
I see people on television recanting their lines, reporter's at the door and offenders peeping through the blinds.
If speech is free then why do I have to pay?
When someone takes offense to the words I say.
Now this doesn't sound like freedom to me....more like selective or should I say controlled
shutting my voice down like a person on hold....
When I say what I feel, it becomes a problem.
Funny thing is......resigning or being fired appears to solve them.
Why is it insubordination when i'm using my right that is freely given.....not by man, but the One who has risen.
Although, they are free to say whatever they please.....
meanwhile...am I really supposed to smile and say "cheese?" ......when I feel like spewing a few obscenities.
I've been given a write up and I have a meeting with H.R.....
They are only referred to by letters because no one knows who they are.
My Facebook has offended many and my Twitter too.....let's not mention Tumblr ....that's a bit much to chew...
Where the Hell is the freedom of speech I'm entitled to?
No freedom online, offline, not even while I'm standing in line.
Some female telling me off because I said something about her behind.
She was fine, but had on see through .....I'm checking her out...because you know how guys do.
Now my freedom of speech is put on delay, because I can't express what my mind really wants to say:
Lovely lady your looking good with more cake than a baker, skin brown like bronze....precious for sure....I don't mind your company...I'm not expecting anything more. You display a touch of cool....thumbs up like the Fonz.....
I want to take you home and shine you up like chrome. I'm on my Macaulay Caulkin....I have you home alone.
The teller says "Hello sir and is that all?" snapped out of my fantasy and sadly disgusted.
When they say freedom of speech those words can't be trusted.
I've learned that nothing is free when it comes to man....although freedom can be purchased, so allow the money to secretly fall into my hands.
"Freedom of speech.....It's not really free at all."
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 2:21 PM UTC
Does your trust know any boundaries in this seemingly plausible abode of temporal and eclectic uncertainty? I have just satisfied my appetite, yet suffer ambivalence as I contemplate those who surf the waves of marine predictability. I can only present one suggestion: Go to Tradeston and acquire perishable foods in the name of nostalgic self-indulgence.
The outer limits of our galaxy recognise multi-directional infinity as the bounce of jazz permeates the atmosphere of resigning perimeters. I have decided to ride the atomic beat and to make something tasty in my adolescent innocence, as we lurch into finality.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
I've spent the past decade
And then some
Drowning.
I'm curled fetaly,
Cradling the anchor seared
Against this inside of my ribs.
I've managed to keep my head
Above the waves,
Even with a tempest
Crashing,
Beating,
Breaking,
Forcing
It's
Way
Into
My
Lungs,
If only just barely.
There have been so many
Failed lifelines,
False shore sightings,
Ghost ships burning bright on the horizon.
But I continue to tread water,
Resigning myself to a life of chocking.
One day you floated by,
Quietly in time with the sunrise,
And I felt lighter
Simply from your proximity.
You stayed a while,
And as hours passed
I felt myself falling for you.
You reached your hand out,
Gave me a lifeline,
Gave me a handhold
With you.
Whispered promises
In the middle of the night,
Hushed attempts to cease my crying,
To assure me you wouldn't let me sink,
Even as I screamed at you
To let me go
In the midst of the thrall.
I pushed you away,
Fervent in the desire
To save you,
To get you to the eye,
So I could drown guiltless.
k.f.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Blossoming jubilee
Petals trickle down their symphonies
Sharing gold-containing liquids of sweet nutrients
Fellow friendly winds carry their children across manmade architecture
Hugging onto hoodies and sightseeing before resigning into the soil
To patiently grow into personal structures
That will repeat the cycle of unified fields of family
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
The fear of rejection haunts my taunting soul
The eyes of god illuminate through the illusion of hope
Silence
Misery creeps among the stars
Honesty lingers mindlessly around the moon
Anxious
Reality twists and turns
Insecurity starts to flow
Outbursts and thoughts dance with one another
Thoughts travel
From the mind
Through the guileless heart
Midnight skies thunder in contemplation
Omitted while resigning from solitude
Lighting beams impressions
And strikes unforgettably
Remorse
Rose are quandary veiled in thorns
Glamorized secrets
Planted with tulips in the Spring
Vibrations spirit forth the branches of trees
Fog
Masks the anthropomorphic perception
Triggers instinct of intuition
Rationality halts, wills relish
The eyes of god forsake hope
Fear taunts thoughts
Rejection haunts souls
Misfortunes recollect the bitter anima
Lightly, the amity surrenders in the panicked streams of night
Soundly,
Charitably,
And Sincerely,
Tongue tied she scrupulously riveted
Across the room she neglectfully obscured the chair that supported his back
Togging on strands of denigrated comfort
Grains of sand that endless lay the shore
Mindless their eyes gravitated in contact
thirty seconds of encrypted reflections
Breathless laid rejection
She consigned to oblivion
Gathered by curiosity he sternly attends the strength
“What’s wrong?”
Admiration beams from the brims of his eyes
Grim of Frustration leak from her ****** expression
Hesitated
Continuously and distract she roamed away from him his thoughts
And admiration
Paralyzed by fear
Silence drives her composer
deeply and thoughtfully she inhaled
Breathlessly
— “A cup of coffee would sound nice, wouldn’t it?”
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
petals resigning from a rose
turning ground into infinite
stretch of liquid sweetness;
tub sinking into a pool sinking into
a lake sinking into a sea
of rose-scented water
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 7:39 PM UTC
In moments such as these
My skin aches with recollection
Of how it was when passions ran high
And silence was filled with devious, knowing eyes
In moments such as these
My mind strains to find a masterpiece
Anything that will gather your attention
From the mundane distractions its lost within
In moments such as these
My questions begin in endless ovals
Pushing adrenaline and anxiety as I wonder,
"Is this really what I'm resigning my youth to?"
In moment such as these
I lie in silence searching for a revival
But now the quiet crushes me
And any eye contact is dull, disappointed, and droopy
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:16 AM UTC
The Lord knows my needs, my thoughts, my weakness, my strength and even my heart's desire.
I only hope he hears my prayers.
Through all the troubles and heartaches, betrayals and sorrows...Yes Blessings, more than just a few.
After so many years and countless tears...Having abandoned my precious hope, holding just enough rope...
Resigning myself to being an Unworthy single man,
I set my eyes on him. No longer asking is it this one? Or her?
Just who?
Just in time and out of the Blue...the Lord sent me You!
His answer to my Prayers.
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
Three shots of Jameson and a few mouthfuls of Publix potato salad in, and I'm ready to write. Or so I thought. And yet, in some sort of cosmic **** somebody with a name out of the past liked a poem on this site. No picture, no poems, no identifying information to speak of. Just a name. I don't even know what I was going to write now. Had some sort of an idea to talk about this job I have and tie that into a metaphor for America, all this very clean plastic and mysterious machines emitting odd beeping noises as I blast Muddy Waters and croone to poor people on the telephone who are far more bewildered than I. But now, oh no, not now. Now I have to reconsider my assumptions, yet again, and this on the heels of finally resigning myself to the demented suspicion that there really is no place for freaks like me who run off of alcohol and a sort of dark throw-back Watergate mentality. But now I have to look up at the tiled ceiling and have a what-the-fuck conversation with the great comedian in the sky....again. I guess that's just the way it is, people coming and going out of life, and me doing everything I can to try and make some kind of sense out of this outrageousness. Ah ***** it, this is the Blues after all, and man oh man, sure makes a good story.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
create words of worth
instead of destruction
with your thoughts
give your head more room
for seeds of hope to bloom
and use the dirt they threw
to view _new heights of you_
pour your leftover hurt
like honey over your cracks
see _galaxies of growth_ within
the wound-beds you once had
when your light is resigning
dip into your _waves of abundance_
and spend your time swimming
in your sea of silver linings
beyond life’s bitter findings
we can taste the sweet-embrace
of expansion that we’re soon to face
by _making space for what’s aligning_
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
Four am.
A time…;
When the world is complete.
Moonlight, now, fades
Onto… a new-day’s fog.
Salty, …shabby wooden planks;
Silent,… serene boardwalk;
My delight…
Such haze holds the stage;
Now, to walk
The idles of time.
Foggy mist
Seeps… onto the rise.
Water reaches
Then… clings upon moist wet sand.
Useless…
The struggle; The pull.
A resigning white line
Bubbles
Caressing mist …tingles the flesh.
A pervading heart
Beats.
My… thoughts of you;
Such breath gives me
Flight.
Soothing breeze… lifts tattered wings.
To raise above nature’s silent kiss
To reach… beyond endless sky.
Ascend… above our sea
Beloved; Beyond all;
Beyond
Space;
Time;
Shadow.
To you…
Where I fly
… free
Freedom,
Freedom, once more
To feel;
Oh, my love
… to feel
Once more.
Beauty;
Memory;
Your arms.
The rapture’s of your heart.
The touch of your love,
The beat …of your heart
To fly…,
Free,
Freedom
You
Beyond…
Reach …
Your reach;
Your heart;
Two hearts
Where,
No echo… exist.
Desire
Longing
Mist
Reaching
Reaching
Reaching
Beyond…
But…;
Gulls cry!
Sunlight
Misty fog
… burns away
Clarity
A new day
…wakes
Once more silence
A heart
Beats…
Alone.
Gulls hover
… to feast
Once more
On time’s tide.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
I tasted you the moment we met
Our eyes meeting… the tranquil waters of the ocean
Our hands touching… strong and worn like the Earth herself
Our lips forming words and smiles… a private dance shared between us
And then we parted, nothing left but the sweetness to savor
You knew nothing, it was my own private taste, my own private moment
I was cute, and shy… always “cute” and “shy”
You were proud and beautiful… like a mountain that needs nothing more than to be, to display its glory.
What hope had I that that single taste would become a feast
But I would taste you again, your essence a vivid memory on my tongue
And so we did meet again and again, mingling and parting
Eyes, hands, lips… all practicing for some other destined occasion
And you, becoming a craving, the desired main course for a starving woman
After a time, I had lost hope of quenching my thirst of you
As your flavor seemed to get lost on my tongue,
Nothing more than a vague memory… an aftertaste
I began resigning myself to a life of fast food and leftovers
Oh, I had tasted… dined… on others
But none could compare to your flavor, water to honeyed mead
Or perhaps it was your flavor mingled with my own
That created some epicurean delight that my senses could not let go of
And just as I had reconciled my life to TV dinners and mac and cheese… there you are
Eyes, hands, lips, coming to mingle and dance once more
Letting me taste you again, and again
Floating on my tongue like sweet ambrosia
Our meeting, glances and gazes…
Our touching, hands, shoulders, backs, thighs…
Our dance, the words and smiles,
Go late into the night
And you remain, the taste becoming an appetizer… a prelude of the dinner yet to come
Then a single promise… dance… kiss
And as if we had practiced enough,
I taste you again… and drink you whole.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
electric — conflated with
the doldrum of once ignited feeling
on the russet table work
and the stringing aroma of flyblown
coffee painting the morning something
earthenware;
i imagine
women lounging
and displaying their flamboyant dresses
confessing a dull promenade
parading their attenuated ***** reveling
a queendom on recall and this bane,
merely resolute, gives itself a new
meaning as a hand of forgive
men resigning their bags on the corner,
grunts, heaves deathly serious disallowing tomorrow's arrival into
a throb of being in place, folding newspapers to a club and smiting fervently along with the endless waiting,
verses lying cold on the froth of the tile
and the wind ripening the brew of
contestations — punctuations in their
cupboards still and reserved in hermetic
space curating silence, giving dins
their polished ends,
open for all: churlish boys,
naked girls, faith-used women, strife-torn men, usual suspects,
rebels and the overwrought –
never closes like a hand in cold
or a rose, its face occulted by
identification sideways torn, inside and out struggling,
scrunched to squint on some pale light through chinks on the battered
wall, sipping coffee,
mmmm, that
morning ripple transcending the
heaviness of the city before me.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
I check the clock knowing time,
at least, won't lie—
Two hours past 3
And that place down the alley isn’t open
The sun shines brighter than ever,
The strained pavement is hot and
Covered in cigarette butts
The garage door is locked
And any sense of sanctuary now locked behind it
I turn back, resigning myself to
Burying my thoughts alive
Deep beneath the workday
The time passes,
All-too-many pores sweat and my
Back hurts like my stomach drops flat
I step outside this familiar prison and collapse
At the feet of lunar light surrounding me,
Bats whirl overhead and
My heart races faster and faster
Ivory, delicate ivory,
Clutching the silly purple sweater
That I remember you smiling to see me in
Head now down to the floor and
This same silly sweater becomes a metaphor
These fabrics of your absence
Caress my tired flesh
There was a time where I counted
Weeks by kisses on the cheek
And
Not quite butterflies but similar insects,
Though they didn’t have wings,
Could be felt whirring through my nerve endings,
Their presence at the pit of my anxieties,
Squirming through the muck
But now my feelings fill that space
In its current state, damp and muddy
Left in the wake of sensations past
Something beyond the spoken word
Between what is known and unknown
A question without an answer, the
Suspended seconds before free fall
The eye of the hurricane or
The voice trapped within a ringing phone
Something that exists before it’s realized
Chaining two things together
Existing only in its own negative space
And now
A familiar feeling finds me
In the midst of my focus fading,
Car parked in the same old spot
But only now do I realize how foreign this land is, how
Impossible it is to reach from where you last smiled at me
This silly purple sweater wraps
Me tightly with what refuses to exist,
I'm drowning in the this feeling of
The only time you'll ever hold me
These savage fabrics at my lips and throat
Smother me with the affection
That you never in my half-life will have
Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 2:44 AM UTC
I drink red wine now
by myself
but obviously not in the pathetic, lonely sort of way
or in the I-have-a-problem way,
I promise!
I put it in a glass and everything!
Just in the unwinding way
Sometimes... late at night...
It's nice
Sometimes... it helps me write...
God-awful poems
you know, in the why-can't-I-forget-you way
but
I only drink in the evening hours
and the days aren't so bad
and
every day I fall more in love with myself
honestly, I do.
I do!
It's just a shame that doesn't make me fall out of love with you
And I feel like my poems are never long enough
even when my words are
dancing in my head
and then I get sleepy before they unlock
but that could be the fermented grapes
or the clock
as I continually realize
the knock on the door won't be you
anymore
so there's just me
...
and the wine
and the whining
and resigning
and the pining
for what was never mine
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC