I Pause,
Put down my pen,
Sigh,
Hold that tattered thought
And render yet another verse useless.
Yes, I do believe
That I am painfully, woefully
Inexplicably,
Suddenly and most tearfully
Out of words
For you.
How could I possibly find the words
To justify this amount of pain?
And who wants to bring justice
To pain?
It is quite the same thing as marrying
Kindness to the thought of war.
No matter how much you try,
It cannot be done.
So I try again.
And this is about as much patchwork
As it is poetry,
And it works.
Since the matrimony of you to my unforgivable
Expansion of thought
Leaves me weak,
And lonely,
And sad--
Already I find myself interrupted.
Copyright © Annalee Pierce | Year Posted 2012
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