Posts
***This seems an appropriate topic with the undeniable and unpreventable death of beautiful Summer! As Morrie Schwartz said, "Everything that gets born dies." ***
A glass jar of words never said
Isolated thoughts acknowledged before bed
A virus of love quarantined
One morning, I awoke, age fifty two
Certain in a few years I would readily spew
Every buttress in my heart
Words I wish I'd spoken from the start
But now you lay six feet underground
Leaving me behind, voice newly found
Leaking tears as I realize
It's too late
Never again will you materialize
Never again will you material
Never again will you
Never again will
Never again
Never
i like this and it makes me sad and contemplative.
ReplyDeletei feel like there needs to be some sort of smoother transition between your first and second paragraph. your second paragraph was a bit abrupt
I think you are right..
ReplyDelete