poem

 Poem #39Poems never asked to be hereThey ’re just like usProducts of some dumb youngAmerican male writhing With the girl he thinks he lovesOr vice versaBut it never lasts, that feeling.Something gets smashedA final thrust, a shudder, a heaving silence There has to be something betterParents always move on to something else It ’s the poems get left behindEmpty husks of wordsAbandoned to dangerous vulnerabilityCute, but a lot of workNo one to tend to them To wipe their chinsOf redundant nounsTo swaddle their stanzasWith loving precision.They forget their own names But the good ones remain hopeful Of feeling full againOnce read againAnd so they wait encased Between dusty coversOf long forgotten booksFor the right someone, In the proper frame of mind,Perhaps it could be you,To grasp them by the spine3/15/22

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - March 15, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs