hope like a beggar's candle,
snuffed.
for darkness welcomes the cold.
my eyes wander dreary, wet streets
and wonder, why?
why didnt i?
why couldnt i?
reasons like rotten apples
baking in august's
cruel glare
reasons are rotting
"reasons" are not
enough
i, that possesses
a reflection that gazes
blankly back at it's
owner.
questioning validity.
shunning reality's bitter truths...
we are lost at sea
and have become
lonesome boats
on the heavy oceans of
oh never!
never!
to cry for something
that existed only in breaths of indecision
and the hours spent
watching clouds
that have become
blankets of night.
pupils glow in the darkness
smoke rises and
drifts into the world
where ideas
become concrete...
goodbye,
hysterical dream-
my slumbering
intention
Copyright 2005 voix de femme
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