He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.
--Albert Einstein --

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

If poems were rock stars maybe I’d wear shades

The crackle of a rain drop sings
Makes me wish that I had wings
Reminding me all that I’ve lost
Weighing gains against the cost

I’ll make my pillow from the sand
Wait for a need to take a stand
Mixed feelings wait in the breeze
And my spirit’s in these trees

I’ll wear this crown that I bought
I never gave it much thought
King of all I cannot see
It took the best right out of me

Stay in the center with your greed
Keep this world away from me
I’ll take this path out of town
You be king and I’ll be clown

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