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Oh, those poems of my youth:
by Aaron BlairThe poems were easier
when I was younger.
Not, I imagine, because they were better
back then, when they hung,
like thought balloons, over my head,
full to bursting with the obviousness
that pain really does hurt.
They felt important, though,
Galilean in their scope.
I revolved. I dissolved. I was dizzy.
Now my poems are sighs of resignation.
I said it all.
I said too much. 11/19/2007 Author's Note: Last two lines borrowed, sort of, from "Losing My Religion".
Posted on 11/20/2007
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Maria Kintner on 11/20/07 at 06:14 PM I read this on LJ, and I really identified with it. I loathe the feeling that I have nothing left to write. |
| Posted by Tony Whitaker on 11/20/07 at 06:57 PM Dear Aaron, like a few others on this site, you need to write a book of your best. You have a style and view on life all your own. You will never say it all for that was just a dream. Just a dream. Dream! |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/26/07 at 05:19 PM I can sooo relate to this very cool poem. Thanks for posting! :o) |
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