When you try to solve your problems
with the swing of an angry fist
that cannot be unswung
nor the damage caused undone
regret will sidle up
hollow out your belly
and set your mind awhirl
conveying very clearly
that what you should have done
was take a breath or two
go back a bit in time
to when that fist
would not have swung
to when Boots
raised from just a puppy
relied on your protection
and came to you for comfort
unclench that angry fist
and remember how it felt
when Boots was in your lap
and you used that unclenched fist
to gently stroke his warmth
as he lazily stretched and yawned.
Categories:
unswung, anger,
Form: Prose Poetry
To the doors of dusk and dawn,
To the end of wolf and fawn,
To the world so deep in dread
To the ones we wished dead
To the effortless yet graceful fool
To the lone that's mind's so cool
To the heat of the lover's head
To clean the sins that they do shed
To the quiet and to the loud
To the cowards and to the proud
To the ones of life and death
To your only, last, failing breath
To the world so dark and cold,
To the young and to the old,
To the weak with song unsung,
To the sheath of sword unswung.
To the beginning and to the end,
To the message you never send,
To the life you'll never live,
To the love you'll never give.
To the blood in your vein
To the feel of festered pain
To the end of life so proud
So that silence screams so loud.
Categories:
unswung, death, life, lost love,
Form: Rhyme