|
"When Time is Insignificant"
by Max PhineasThe thing is
he was a figment
And you can ignore figments to your heart's content.
(Though your mind pleads for reason...)
But when you see him,
When I saw him, rather,
he was really there-
The flesh and blood embodiment
of the transparent, faceless name
And now those letters bear Weight
And heave themselves into my subconscious
Mind made heavy
The definition of a sinking heart.
And I know he is the comfort
Co-Bearer of your personal history...
I was just hoping to be the fresh start. 11/08/2007 Posted on 11/09/2007
Copyright © 2024 Max Phineas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 11/16/07 at 10:10 PM Your understanding about matters of the heart, just like your high school poetry about life, has a mature contemplation. Too often we learn the hard way.
~Chelle~ |
|
