to her
Posted to Poetry
by OctoberOrigin on 2002-02-09 10:06:00
Who makes this happen? this sobriety
Because I make the drunk vision of me
And I’ll smile and maybe take the stumble
But there’s no room, the clouds are so crowded they rumble
So, I’m happy with introspective talk
While I take this time, on my empty sidewalk
In the window, there’s a reflection
Of my own self pity, my own condemnation
Don’t fly to Europe is all she asks of me
But that’s my instinct, this malefic ability to flee
Maybe I could love you; I just don’t know how to speak
It’s hard to sing, it’s hard to see, my soul is just too weak
Reverb of love’s acoustic is silent for a while
And this young heart joins your love’s old dead pile
(cyoung6)
