Thoughts as Poetry

Untitled

I touched her arm,

I dried her tears,

But it was never enough.

I took his pain,

I cried his tears,

But I am too rough.

(Around the edges)

I spun in circles,

Round, round, round, I was her slave,

But I tripped over my own feet.

I sang his sorrows,

'Til my voice gave out,

But I missed a single beat.

(Then slipped over the ledges)

You see, I'm tough,

But not strong enough.

You see I try, I spread my sail,

But soonafter the wind gave out, I always fail.