The wooden beam
holds up the mineshaft's ceilings
Just as the new seam
keeps cloth connected.
Sometimes we feel that way,
a connector, a fixer.
But who would fix what is meant to stay?
What then, when it fails?
We can't break and fail.
When a beam gets old and rotted,
when a seam becomes frayed and frail,
it has to be replaced.
But we are people, not things.
We heal, we gain strength.
We don't turn to nothing.
We can falter.
We don't splinter into uselessness,
we don't fray and come undone.
We learn, we teach, with eagerness,
Or we move on, once we can't anymore.
Sept. 12, 2019
I don't remember when I wrote this over the summer, but here it is. I didn't think it was finished at the time, but now I do.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Rhythmic, Blue Cat
PoesíaThis is my poem book. Enjoy, since many people have enjoyed my poems! These are my feelings, so please do keep that in mind. Yes, the cover is Bluestar. I couldn't find a blue cat other than her, who is arguably the most famous blue cat.
