I write no songs to you
No soliloquies
No sonnets
Only a few words on a page.
Some ideas, some lines anew
That leave no queries
Left brfret,
Expressing only rage.
I could be angry with you
Instead just disappointed.
So many things I wanted to do
You left me waiting, undaunted.
All the dreams I had held
And the hopes, and more dreams
Have yet beheld
Leaving nothing but nocturnal screams.
I held but one last gasp
Then I died.
For one brief moment you held my grasp
All the while you lied.

10/08/1982

Posted on 03/14/2006
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