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I give up.
by Kalikala SmithWait.
You said that we were working with a clean slate,
but I guess your version,
of clean slates,
are those cracked and bruised ones,
half buried in a walkway,
that used to be beautiful.
Wait.
What the hell did I do?
The longer the silence persists,
the worse all this gets,
and the slate sinks,
down,
down,
down,
further into the soil.
We're not going to last much longer,
with our pieces of slate clutched to our chests.
There's not much time,
to remedy this mess.
06/11/2008 Author's Note: argh.
Posted on 06/11/2008
Copyright © 2025 Kalikala Smith
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 06/11/08 at 08:50 PM I loved the word choice and useage here... an excellent write! |
| Posted by Richard D Frederick on 06/12/08 at 04:57 AM it's refreshing to watch an artist continually improve. |
| Posted by Tim D Livingston on 06/15/08 at 02:47 PM Lately I find that the whole clean slate idea is a tricky thing. Sometimes an issue or an event that we decided to move past is actually part of a pattern like a notch in a wheel that comes back around every once in a while. And then what was a clean slate has to be revisited in order to delve deeper into the issue and find out what's causing the pattern to repeat. And it's frustrating because it feels like it's being thrown back in your face. It takes a lot of maturity and fortitude revisit that place and try to find out where I need to grow up. But if they're holding it over your head that's another story. The other party has to be mature about it too. Just a thought I'd been chewing on. Your wonderful poem brought it to the surface. |
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