I.
If I should lose the Words I feel-
If, for some reason, Time should steal
All the Pain I feel inside
And force my tears to never slide
Down and further down- if I
Should let the World become more real...
Then bury me quickly;
And do not frown-
It will have been a corpse you've found.
II.
If of the Shadows, I lose sight-
Can only See in black and white...
If all my words are happy; sere.
Nothing here and nothing there,
An empty shell- If I don't fear
The thought of giving up the Fight...
Then let you not, one wail
Resound.
It will have been a corpse you've found.
III.
If all my words drop flat like stones-
If all you see are dulcet tones
Of sick and drab complacency;
If Happiness is all you see-
If you can't tell if it is me
Or just a Phantom in my Bones...
Then chalk my mark
Upon the ground.
It will have been a corpse you've found.
IV.
If deep into my Eyes, you peer-
And cannot see the glistening tear...
If listening to my voice, you find
The owner of a saner mind-
With keys to cars and jobs to find;
Wondering "Just what will I wear?!"
Then fret you not,
I'm heaven-bound.
It will have been a corpse you've found.
V.
If I should turn a deafened ear
To all the Sorrows I should hear...
If you should pry inside my chest
And find a stone beneath my breast-
Where my Heart should beat.
Where my Pain should rest...
Then pluck it out
And carve it down,
And set it up against the mound....
It will have been
A corpse
You've
Found.
YOU ARE READING
Book Of Counted Sorrows
PoesíaAn exercise in demented Adventure. A Test of ingenious Insanity. Fragile words spewed forth into the abyss of the the electronic medium. Diamonds forged in the coalmines of Memory. *OR......just pages upon pages of crap ;-)...* Only Time and Effort...
