What is left
After the anger
Disappears probably the
Same things left
Behind by the
Tide a Galaxy
Of sparkling stones
Begging you to
Take notice now
Because tomorrow they
Will all disappear
Beneath something else
Category: Poetry
ImSorry (to Bean)
We tend to
Make up things
About people once
We discover they’re
Not exactly precisely
What we wanted
I’m sorry that
I did that
To you see
You have always
Been but a
Mouse that I
Always dressed up
Like a Lion
DishCalledMe
Sadly you’ve become
That absent spice
Noticed upon tasting
A spoonful of
Something that one
Thing that you
Forgot until it’s
Missing one part
Of many that
Now creates this
Dish called me
WeAlwaysDo
When you take
A stick to
A dog and
Beat the bark
Out of him
Does he not
Yet still bite
When you beat
People down with
Meanness and hatred
Do they still
Not love you
Can’t beat out
Of anything what
It truly is
Scare it yes
Scar it no
We come back
We always do
WhatHeIs
He is so
Many things that
To simply describe
Would diminish the
Rest imagine if
You will a
Willow in summer
Giving shade from
Sun or perhaps
A cloudburst on
A dusty plain
Or maybe snow
On Christmas Eve
Or the knowing
That you’ve known
Each other before
And forever have
Found comfort in
The other for
All of millennia
