Like a dagger, long and narrow,
Like my blood upon the sand,
The long Howl of wolf-like sorrow,
Sharply bites into my heart,
And I know, again tomorrow,
All the Pain will newly, start
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Sleeping, with
Kind of giving upOnce asleepNot wanting,To even wake upNo matter whatNo matter when,Darkness,Suits me, well.Too late for dawnToo late for love,Life?I never knewWhat the whole fussWas about?
We feel too much,
Worry and thinkHold on to Love’sGolden crutch,Too much,Taking away, all simplicity,Unnecessarily complicatingLife’s, felicity,Tying ourselves up in knotsSearching for the impossibleAnd overlooking,The obviously, possible.
Poets,
And at no charge,For this business,No tariffs,Involved.
The only living creature,
That is totally yours,With a love and fidelityBeyond our understanding,Is your Dog,I Miss You So Much!Sandy……
After all this time
My confident,The one that understandsMy lonely painI never tire of you,Poetry, yesI think that is your name.
I’ve tried to but I can’t,
What I read, askance,Give out complements,Like false peppermint scent,Giving praise, I never meant.Sincerity is not temerity,It’s part of a poet’s heart,Poetry is much too sacred,To lie about it and tear it apart.Be as it may,A critic, I am not,Selfishly, what touches me,Is what, I’ll keep in heart.