August 6, 2011
Pursuing, like a fallen fey I run
Tripping over weeds, stumbling on the rocks
Dwarfed by this savage bonsai forest

On snow white fee she makes her way
Impervious – through what is breaking me –
It is merely the pieces, glimpses I can catch
Of this spirit that sustain me, push me onward

Once lovely branches claw at my face
Once friendly creatures claw, bite, hold me back
And the eyes that were once my comfort now only pierce me
To say I was foolish, naïve. So why do I still cling
To something so long lost?

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Blue4 said...
Aug. 13, 2011 at 9:37 am
Beautiful and very sad. I love your imagery! Can you please read some of my work (esp. my poems "The Violinist" and "For What Have All These People Died") let me know what you think and rate? Thanks.
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