Move my desperate
beating, bleeding heart
into the part you play
and then I may
say something better than
"are you okay?"
Then I could break
this noisy wall
between our never
and our all
and find the teardrop
stuck within
the teeth you grind
Don't mind my interest yet
until my own thoughts are set
and I sink through all the levels
where your despair revels
in its depth
I read the wind
passing over
our heads in October
as we fall into the river
once warm
now cold again
and I wonder
where and when
we shall ever be friends
Move your simple
Somber, singing soul
into places I can listen
until it isn't
difficult
to understand
and let me give you
this hand
for awhile
(August 10th, 2017)
YOU ARE READING
Post Modern Mystic
PoetryPoetry fills a need of the human heart to express through the construction of artistic verse, the things that hide in its depths. This book of poetry is my attempt to reach those places and beyond. See if I do. Let me know if I reach you. This will...
