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To deep affect a heart-or-two,
I come up shy, again ... again,
And seems no matter what I do,
No bloodless ink to fill my pen ...
A man to deal me dim neglect,
To others, offer warming breath,
I sold my dreams to his respect,
For petals of a blossom, death ...
To oft' avoid this aching word,
Folks have a true intrinsic right,
Yet I'll soar on, a wingless bird,
To wend the vatic veils of night ...
Their truths awith'ring ... in the bright.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select G Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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