alone again, wondering:
why must the reddest apples always be bitter?
why must the reddest leaves always be withered?
lies gather like lode in the cracks of my life.
flowery prayer and fervent neglect;
far removed from a past i always commit.
more stains upon an already impure heart. always more.
starting off in the wrong key
and forgetting to strike the last note.
does it matter? “never,” You say.
1.15.2008
soul expression
posted by tim at 12:27 AM
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1 comment:
How you manage to post so many poems of such high quality is beyond my comprehension, Tim. Each one is amazing!
My favorite part is the last stanza. The piano reference is so fitting, and, again, your ending is very powerful.
I feel like my comments on your poems (haha, I wrote "powers" at first) are always lacking a bit...because I'm more impressed with your work than I can even express in these little dialogue boxes. If we were together, I would SURELY be attempting (and failing at) the fist of power right now. :)
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