XXVII

XXVII

Friday, December 6, 2013

Only Sunday

I sense you needed a break from me
As I needed a break from myself 
As well...
The world keeps spinning...
And in my palms a candle holder 
That sits a top the glob 
Only sees one nation
The world as part of a universe... 
One space in which I am rooted to the ground.

The pain removes me... 
Sets my wings to flight again  
Only memories of Sunday 
Come to life in the rosemary sky 
Only memories of Sunday
Vanish in that same air
As sunlight fades

Only Sunday

Have you not forgotten 
What you made this planet for...?

Or will you not tell me...
No poet 
To the sun of God. 

I am (Thinking, 
Loving, 
Dying 
To Much 
Pain.)
I am (Smoking
Drinking
Numbing 
To much
Pain.

I am 

I am. 

No poet 
To the sun of God. 

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