With dark brown hair.
A pretty little thing.
Back when I didn't know how to think.
I know a girl,
With dark brown eyes.
I kissed her lips,
Once or twice.
I was bitten.
Buy a disease.
Of the mind.
And of the body.
Too late,
I found out,
All girls grow up.
I shrugged, and walked away.
Things happened,
I forget what.
A troubling time for me though I'm sure.
More to the point,
I got over it.
And onto greater things.
And greater mistakes.
The fool that I am.
I picked out the stars,
with my fingertips.
My beauties danced for me,
Like they always have.
I held my head in my hands
Screaming in pain.
My tormentor tormented me,
Like he or it always has,
I clasped my hands together,
A beggar on the street of life.
My king gave me love,
Like he always has,
And I worked out the meaning
of the puzzle,
Without all the pieces.
Like I do.
Because I was put together clever.
Then just recently,
I was dusting my books,
And I found a person.
Long forgotten,
Preserved in glass,
Taller, but the same.
I laughed and shook her hand.
How strange this thing is.
Cruel perhaps,
But I don't mind right now.
Do I remind you of the fool?
Dancing on the cliff edge?
Carrying the things he needs,
In his pockets, and his little bag.
All I need is a plume in my hat.
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