It's lights out now where the lights used to be,
Paths I never wandered open up to me,
I always had the words and rhymes but now they seem to flee
To the dark, cold corners of a place called me
Now I can quietly recede into the slum-
To the dark, cold shadows from which I sprung,
Never forget that it pays to be the pessimist,
Saves you from the weight of the pain when it trickles in,
Keeps you from falling off the edge when the ripples spin-
And perhaps it'll let you see the truth even in love's painful mist.
YOU ARE READING
A 100 For My Better Half
Poetry"Summer and warmth spilled from her eyes, Breaking my shell like metal on ice, I tried to ignore, yet I couldn't excise- The love in me that she enticed". Praise Frank This is an anthology to and for one who unconsciously opened a gate which was shu...
