I promise you I really tried
To honor what you told me.
I tried to keep within myself
The words you bid unspoken.
I never should have chanced the thought
That verse from page be cloven,
And now instead I lay stained red
At the foot of prose unwoven.
You warned me in your verdant way
Of the potent social poison
You held within your arsenal
To protect your learned aversions
But e'er the fool I clasped at you
And Icarian fell I with devotion.
Your cautious heart I hold esteemed
Yet curious I behold it
The troubadour plucked at your strings
And the dirge reverbed around me.
Acloak with requiescent mirth
I lay me down to rest,
And as the notes nailed shut the oak
I clutch the memories to my chest.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection
PoetryA simple collection of my poetry, some gathered from old notebooks and some bespoke writings for this collection. There is something of a narrative, loosely speaking, that could be constructed here, with recurring mentions of places and unnamed cha...
