Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.128.226.211

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

A name on the tip of a tongue.
A father caught in traffic, who never made the party.
A mongrel fighting a lion,
whose only reason for living was the one for which he was dying.

Were you here yet changed so much?
Never be recognised; a caterpillar-butterflied.
But I tried...
...and I tried...
...and I tried.

Every season fallow,
exhausted,
exacted.
Have I retracted or is there time for one last sweep?
Am I the janitor never paid,
always more dust to collect, to heap?
My bristles are worn and no longer reach into your corners.

A spider, relentlessly scaling an unclimbable bath,
a forward moonwalk that will only end in withered legs,
and blistered feet,
then nothing.
Life may throw you a paper ladder,
but all too often life is wish washed away,
with the scum, the debris, of a bad bad day.

Mistaken,
unrecognised,
potential is lost,
if potential is there it comes with a cost.
A surety that exists only like beauty,
in a beholder's eye,
In an older sky,
an older I.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required