by John Harder
Awakening in the middle of this dysfunctional night
to play the role of death and destruction
Hear my cry. Be my shelter. Rest in this. Rest
In this, place your heart
There's no defeat. No deceit
You offer a whole loaf. I only take a crumb
and pretend I'm full.
A thousand hearts. A million broken strands of string
What's this all about? What's the point of this?
I aim and I miss.
Author's Note: This is a result of looking blankly into my screen thinking things that make no sense.
Posted on 04/06/2003
Copyright © 2019 John Harder
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kalikala Smith on 04/09/03 at 03:05 AM|
as jumbled as this may have felt to write... it makes perfect sense to me
|Posted by Ashok Sharda on 05/09/03 at 03:28 AM|
Well, it is, as a matter of fact, it thinks, based on the associations, external or with the thoughts. We are just carried away. Meaninglessly. Consuming precious energies. Well said.