Monday, January 24, 2011

Done

Half-way around the world,
where the dew dries at night.
We will see,
who was wrong, who was right
and who was just in love with screaming.
You can't see through
hard wire defense.
Or else it's too ugly to bear.
A headache will not save you from failure.
You tried and couldn't.
Damaged goods,
a broken glass that holds no water in the end.
Who are you fighting for?
Not yourself and certainly not for me.
A ghost, an illusion.
The memory of a former life.
When dreams still called unsatisfied.
Devoid of consequences,
unencumbered by honesty.
Not close enough to shame to burn.
You couldn't see beauty for what it was,
where it lay.
Too subtly obscured by the brightness of the day.
The first was not the last,
but only second in place.
To fall apart so fast in such a small amount of space.

1 comment:

  1. Very well done. It's nice and succinct. Hemingway's ghost is proud.
    PS. Do you have my Shakespeare? I shall need to retrieve it when we have adult beverages at your house soon. Soon.

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