*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2119638-As-Time-Goes-On
Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2119638
the product of a bad bout of depression the other day
What will ultimately be the end of us
Is what's sown at the beginning:
A strange, benighted pseudo-love,
Which needs debate before defending.
But, to be fair, maybe nothing more was needed:
The earth kept turning, we were fed,
Kept just enough without being depleted,
And I could always rely on my own warm bed.
But what only is needed, isn't enough.
This I've learned now, being human.
I acknowledge my heart now, and untangle my scruff,
Long days pondering what I feel should've been.
And again, perhaps I have no right
To pine for more than that baseline privilege;
But I gaze stupidly into the sky at night,
Walking listlessly along the ridge,
Searching in the scented air, the stars,
For a substance -- so it seems -- that's freely given
Between untrammelled hearts, or even folded through the bars,
By force of desire, between hearts that are riven.
© Copyright 2017 Draper91 (draper91 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2119638-As-Time-Goes-On