When I watch her moving
Through the limp Sunday air I
Wonder is this what I have
To look forward to?
I know she sees me I
Know she hates me and
I can’t blame her.
She should not be allowed
To move freely through the midnight
Shadows and long triangles of light.
I cannot believe what
I will be it’s
Too much and I
Turn away.
I wish she could borrow
My eyes.
Maybe that would change something.
Well, I write poetry, and I like to think I'm good at it. You should read them, Lots of people have said they're beautiful, And I like them well enough. So really. Read this blog.
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