for years ...
i get used to slow streams
for years...
i get used to the mild surge of waves
gushing through the rocks
for years...
i've been complacent
with the steady, the calm,
the undisturbed
water of the lake
for years...
all of which taught me
all things wonderful
but not to wake
they rather nestled me
in a box
wrapped me for storage
been stored in a chamber—
cryogenic enough to freeze
my soul,
to ice up the growing feelings,
to immobilize this
pang of emotion she has left
dearth of healing
and now,
a tidal wave is coming
whence it'd soon
see me unprepared
guess so, should i even bother
feeling these things
when foremost
i never really cared?
YOU ARE READING
Fools
PoetryA collection of poetry found its way juxtaposed with short works of prose, conveying talks about what comprises the life of a fool, what it takes to be such, and whatnots in between. Fools is a book of poems and prose alike, dedicated for those who...
