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i wag my finger
by Charlie Morganmy pomes suffer but are not lonely.
leave a trail, a railroadtrack to my past,
an only God-knows future awaiting;
words, and people changing, allow your dance partner's
dull and drab shoes to be, in time, wiped and shined;
our evening of dreams whirl away in a lingering wisp,
never to materialize, never become real to the touch.
yet, i near-smother the happiness in my heart, for shame.
hurtfully, i survey local and worldly pain, anguish.
compare mine.
become sad.
04/22/2011 Posted on 04/22/2011
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 04/22/11 at 08:12 PM Oh, but just so you know, your words(and your heart) have been heard (speaking for here) by the mere mortals who love and adore - both the words, and your heart. |
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