Wednesday, July 20, 2011

aside, afar

Let me write you a verse today,
A verse imperfect
Call it absurd, you may. 

A verse free flowing,
Of rivers shallow
The used palette
Of the amateur artist. 

The verse of beauty, 
That they'd never feel
of painful laughter
That they ignore but see. 

Let me write you a verse 
That's real 
It's black and it's grey
And it's all the in-betweens. 

Would you listen, though
To the poets of reason?
That alter without caution
Your careless imagination. 

I'll write you a verse
Like never before
But it's not special
The music's faded, sore. 

It's a verse of beauty
A lyric sublime
A song, a subtlety 
A verse, that's not mine.