Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Grateful Or Not

Not one of my lovers
Were ever much like me or even close,
But for that I should be grateful.
I should probably even roll over and play dead.

Almost all those I loved, you see, were guilty
In some small respect of things I’d never believe,
Things I couldn’t imagine that I’d ever tolerate.
Now that they are gone, I’ve reflected, find I was mistaken…

I suppose it’s just that I’ve discovered and suffered for
How I miss them, how hard it’s been to replace them,
How feeble is my existence, growing old without their faces,
Without those native traces, voices, and embraces to keep me.


Current draft: 5/19/2010
Created on 5/15/2010 8:31 PM

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)