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Resignation
May 1, 2013
Too long have I reached,
Into the vacuous cavities of your eyes,
And too long have I stood,
An urchin ‘fore the narrow beach,
Too long unraveled ribbons,
Under my nails driven,
Pretty picture paper in layers.
For one gift—unattainably—
My wildest fantasies be defied.
Oh but souvenir,
The wind was never quite this clear
That you should drift—so rise!
Imitation dinner, you flimsy plastic prize,
You overly simulated winner,
May you invent your own demise.
And find joy.
© Lauren S., Reading, Berkshire, UK
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