She finds me when I have no choice
and leaves me when I choose She yearns for me to hold her hand so she can be my muse So try I do to ask her out to share a cup of tea forgetting she is not the one to sit where I can see Unsure of her real motives now but undeterred by her first no I learn to breath the pause from air and how to take it slow So, a walk I think to hear the birds will surely bring her near But yet again, she turns me down and throws me back to fear And there I sit in overwhelm, no space to think or see So cry I do, to ease the pain and ask “What’s wrong with me?” Yet from the voice that I now hear are not the words of pain But the hymns of her, come now to bless the one no longer sane For of this mind, I have no need no way to come unto For what really are the point of thoughts if I have no peace with you
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PoetryBecause all that science just gets old after a while. Archives
October 2019
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