On Waking

I wish that at eight
It wasn't too late
For the poetry to rise to the top
I wish that at eight
It wasn't too late
For the poetry to rise to the top
Her tears held the page in place
A torrent of emotion obscured its face,
In words smeared and blurred
Their meaning lost.
The page was
Torn,
Mangled,
Tossed
Into the space of memory.
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Tags:
writing, words, poetry, writer's block
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Tags:
poetry, relationships, adult, desire
to the summit i soar and my wings
are clipped
i fall thrashing and spinning.
inevitable defeat.
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Tags:
poetry, allegory, observations
Be careful what you wish for
For it could soon be yours
And once you have it in your hand
You may not want it anymore.
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Tags:
my two cents, poetry, observations