You talk of illusions
and dwell on the past
In the universe dark
a symphonic spell was cast

To release you, enchant you,
Their lives not so old
But nothing about me cherished
You noticed not, my heart of gold

You couldn’t give me an honest chance
You made up your Debussy mind
There is no second wishful chance
Like any scattered Pisces we find.

Every poem and every story written on these
threads of wood pulp and pale cotton
I thought had pieces of me interwoven
Oh but alas I was forgotten

The curse in my life,
endless as far out as deep blue sea
only creates strife and still,
Always and forever you wrote
.....No poems for Me.

04/30/2005

Posted on 04/30/2005
Copyright © 2024 Jennifer L Banks