A World Too Small
I cannot find enough minutes in the day,
Even measured in the beats of my heart.
From no poet can I prise the words to say,
When all except feeling, appears then departs.
I cannot breathe out those avenues of light,
Capture your beauty in some lost chord,
Nor deliver clarity in the black on the white
In some vain hope of a dignity restored.
Each corridor of retreat inches narrow,
Distressed I find my air it pinches thin.
This control of love plays me as shallow,
Yet is its pursuit the inducement of sin?
Here then I find there are no exits to this place,
And the world is too small to forget your face.
Copyright © Gavin Lockey | Year Posted 2007