poems

Grab it and whisper.

Grab it and whisper.

18/02/18

The foolish bard drinks merrily the poison of desire.

No recollection of a future.

No marriage to impress.

No children who’d enquire.

My walked paths held holed shoes in my souls truth.

The whole truth walked in the souls earth.

What is this coat worth?

To grab it and whisper. “I’m sorry I kissed her”

Now you’ll claim die on the twitch of an eye on what else would I lie?

You’ll not trust as much as I said as such and now it’s just dust.

Goodbye to your touch.

For all that I had and all that I loved I wish I’d held on for the greater good.

Here take it – take my blood.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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