Saturday, November 21, 2009

Please -22/11/2009

It tried to be so much more than it really was.

Wanting others to shoudler rub and smile at it,
Welcome it amongst found or imagined peers.

This poem was a desperation,
Part plea, and attack,
Part instruction, some accusation,
Fighting everything beyond its fingertips,
Unable to be enough on it's own,
Redundantly over explaining itself,
Scared that you won't get it,
... because it's scared that you won't get it,
Because that was a better-scared than you already got it,
And weren't impressed.

This poem was a blank page rebuttle,
Shaking up under a pen tip,
A day stopping short from a fresh scar near a major artery,
Near one death and very, very far from a home, safety or friends
Lower lip trembled trying not to sob as it said,
Printed clear and sober in the middle of a blank page:

do better.




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