
I’m sorry that I’m just a bunch
Of bleeding failures
And that I’m a basketful
Of irksome blues and woes;
I’m sorry that you’re forced
To hear me out,
Night after vexing night
And day after galling day. Continue reading “Sorry”
I’m sorry that I’m just a bunch
Of bleeding failures
And that I’m a basketful
Of irksome blues and woes;
I’m sorry that you’re forced
To hear me out,
Night after vexing night
And day after galling day. Continue reading “Sorry”
Oh, the life of a poet!
He wears his heart
On his tattered sleeve;
He uses his blood as his ink
And his body as his sheet–
Even when no one’s listening;
Even when no soul
Desires to read
His rufescent scribblings.
Ah, what a waste
Of bleeding, indeed!
©Diwa
CLICK TITLE TO COMMENT, LIKE, AND SHARE.
(c) Pinterest Photo.
Show Text
Excited and ripe.
The universe was up for her picking
And every novel item made her smile.
Dancing her way
Through crevices and alleyways,
She acknowledged each gaping bloom
And gawking gecko–
Anxious to be friends with all.
Then one gecko approached her,
Armed with an elfish grin on his face.
She said, “Hi!”
With all the charm and wit, about her.
They became close and he toured her
All throughout the garden–
Showing her the shrouded interstices
Of this Newfoundland of hers.
The captivating lizard dazzled her
With everything there was.
They gamboled about, in oblivion–
Him, cajoling her to enjoy;
Her, relishing every morsel of his sphere.
What she didn’t fathom
Was that each thing came with a price.
He was of that complex realm
And she was merely a new distraction–
A marvelous divertissement, he deduced.
She took in all sights and tastes,
Careless and free, at last.
“Ah! This is life!” she announced.
A few weeks of vacuous pleasures
And the gecko got weary of her zest.
He was ready to move on–
She was evolving into a pesty baggage.
He threw her away and vanished.
She woke up, disoriented and alone.
The sheltered lass wept–
Inveigled to find him, yet again.
For years, she travelled all over the kingdom–
Peering into every face,
Desiring each to be his.
But, existence wasn’t always for the naive.
Torn and crestfallen,
She went back to her cage.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have
Ventured out of this hutch.
Now, I’m more depressed than before!”
She lamented.
The world is a wondrous dominion;
But, it isn’t for the innocent and the meek.