In the evening of the
hour in which we speak
the settlement arose
in want, and this morn an
old flame to my breast
gently
did I cradle, sadly was I
meek.
for in visions today he was
temptation and sorrow past.
And my lost love?
calmly in the window
sees
he that admittedly
never knew how to
handle me with ease.
My lost love? My
lost
love you see is me.
And he? another life. Sadly,
sadly do I sigh for none
and no one my heart
wants to keep.
Love? Channel I through he
and perhaps thee, who knows ever
we shall evidently see.
(No I am not
so sure am I ever really
sure?)
she leaves me drained
And when it's your mother calling
in tears of "endless sorrow"
not able to come to deal with
the death of her son asking
will you sign things if she becomes
disabled, do you love her?
Will you reply dry eyed,
Yes mom, I will sign them
thinking hell what's another...
And you know
you're full grown then.
you could be
too kind and I
in my ready wit
replied without
a doubt that why
when upfront
saves misconstreunce.
Is this the time of which
we spoke? I ask
knowingly that doubt
is belayed and
weakness, my
nemesis intrudes.
Yet also given
way is that I care
enough to think of it.
i lost my edits. myspace seems to shut my whole pc down if i'm in the blog post too long so i have to reconstruct a bit of this....
In reference
muse
n. abstractedness 532.3
inspiration 535.2
Muse
poetic source 609.12
Rogets International Thesaurus
c. 1977
No
where does it say lover
a love, a lobster or a thrill
and yet most would assume...
"You deserve better."
Ah, but I quite adore thee,
therefore give I of myself
exclusively, unconditionally.
And when you are ready
to move on, gracefully
in composure will I sigh.
For now let stand the best
before me while I cry
and know…
I deserve to get what I
fucking want for once
just once in this life.
