Thursday, 4 January 2007

Sentimental Or Semi-Mental?

Where is that line that I drew in the sand?
With that sharpened stick that you passed,
Into my hands and through my body.
Have I stepped over it?
Because it disappeared with you.

The waves crash and lap at my feet,
A few steps to silence,
A couple of paces to peace,
The dark cliffs leer and loom,
And I'm lost.

Little lady, I let the wind stroke me
Like you used to, oh, why not now?
Salt water stings the gashes on my face,
Eyes have become weeping sores,
Hands transformed; wrecked palaces.

I wasn't good enough for you, so
I am no help to others, no comfort to anyone else,
More salt water cascading, fill my mouth, ears, nose, eyes,
Fill my lungs,

We breathe our last.

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