It Happened
Years do follow tragedyIt's
Whispering
Into my soul
An angel
As a witness
Then
For years to come
In plenty
Ironed garments
Taking down to
Harbored stems
Of bitter tears
Gone unspoken
Of the fallen.
Whether though
They're means to fall
They go uncertain
Rationalizing these tethered plates
Eating nothing but a crumb of utter waste.
These unwanted souls
Untouched by drastic reason
Unbecoming, withered down to gnarly nubs
Cypress knees that never kneel
Here we sit in
Contemplation
Allocating
There is something
But unusual
It seeps throughout the monster
Of the forest
We call life.
6-24-10
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.