Who told you?
Who said it should’ve been so?
The looming liar lurking?
A voice from the mount’?
Would that there’d been!
Oh that there’d be!
What harm would befall to let it all go?
And exclaim to the the everlasting, omnipresent silence:
There’s ink to the contrary;
Screaming loud and clear.
So my skin -if none else- must tell the truth, dear.
My hand, the fall, forced.
“There’s this girl
Well, woman actually
But she reminds me of a girl
Child-like as she is
But that’s good
After all, there’s no need to act your age
That’s for old people
Anyway
Oh -she is an old soul, though
So there’s this girl….”
Stealer of scraps
As a hyaena
The stealth came before you
Stalking my grace
And took the fat, then lean, alike
Dine now, my friend, dine
Find if my bones care
Come in I say
Come in
You’re welcome in this place
Take my extended hand
Uneasy though your breath
Walk through my humbled door
Need you ask for more and more and more
I’ll find it in my strength
Or pull from my box of blessings
And share
I didn’t believe blue was blue
I couldn’t conceive true was true
I deem the conclusions I drew
As blinded by hope’s dusty hue
An elegant stretch
May be all my sinew craves
After all’s been said
I know
It’s going
To feel it
Amazing
Awe-some
And all
Cliche
Drip-drip
Drip-drop
Drop by drop
Going away
Where trust went
I can wonder and wish and curse it all
But I cannot afford afraid
‘Tis better to sleep
Or sleep walk
Than to walk
Through that lonely ol’ door
Anymore
Up in years now
Am I correct or does the grey belie
And with each passing, Day
You touch me more
You phase me
Damned you
Touch me less
Take your sixth sense elsewhere
And it stings
The shouldn’t be absent
The wouldn’t but for black words
The couldn’t care less
LisaRosier.com 