lo, and behold

Stemming from my original mission to create 365 poems. A culmination of years past and days present.


10 January 2007

80: Honey

Hate of all hates, devoid of compulsion,
standing upright, meaning - less than your self.
The taste in our mouth subsides; your eyes jaded,
and the choking suspicion overcome.
Dear, the film stays buried as my heart.
Missing trails to the norm, left to wander within.
And it's fine, after all,
I can pick up the pieces.