carrotflowers
05-29-2007, 06:53 PM
It’s a strange thing,
This old and tired paper
You so willed me to write.
Beaten and smudged,
Worn soft
with such austere verses.
Wrinkled with misguidance,
Absent pieces.
Stained with power
And dripping hope
That reigns and floods no longer.
Word after word
More incoherently links together
Binding and constricting,
A welcome chain.
Your disdain hangs in the air,
The pollen of my demise.
I cannot find the will
To crumple
One last time
The evidence of such a grand ruler.
I now dismiss you
Quietly and fairly
As this strange thing
Floats so carelessly
To the earth.
This old and tired paper
You so willed me to write.
Beaten and smudged,
Worn soft
with such austere verses.
Wrinkled with misguidance,
Absent pieces.
Stained with power
And dripping hope
That reigns and floods no longer.
Word after word
More incoherently links together
Binding and constricting,
A welcome chain.
Your disdain hangs in the air,
The pollen of my demise.
I cannot find the will
To crumple
One last time
The evidence of such a grand ruler.
I now dismiss you
Quietly and fairly
As this strange thing
Floats so carelessly
To the earth.