For whom are we allowed to mourn,
To wet our faces and be forlorn?
Is it law alone to have that bond,
Or be also by extension fond?
Are friends and lovers to be set out,
Apart from the saddened devout?
We grasp some memory's last straw,
About one caught in death's true final awe.
Set adrift on some grey and forlorn sea,
Please recognize among the crying be,
Some people whom you cannot see.
Category Archives: Poetry
Hmmm…
What do you let go of?
What do you hold on to?
What can you let go?
Who can you let go?
At what point do you say,
“Fuck this, I’m either all in,
Or all out. There’s no in between.”
But secretly think that maybe it would be safer, in between?
At what point is ambiguity not enough?
At what point do you hope?
Where is that hope from?
When do you put it on the line?
When do you call it quits?
Where is love in your questions?
Where is sweetness?
Trusting Wishes
Passion
Is nothing
Without trust.
Do you
Trust Me?
To rip a hole in you
To help you
Discover you
And then to help
Put you back together
Again?
To be the sweet
The sour
The bitter
Taste in your mouth
And through many kisses,
Clean?
To fail sometimes
To fall down
But then
Through love and grace
Pick myself back up
Again?
I wish you did….
Purple Penguin 