Waiting To Become Broken

Experiments in poetic forms. This one in the form of a sestina.

The words she’s longing to hear
The tale of someone’s love
Up and down the broken street
Slipping into a shrouded dream
Those who want to perceive
A distant reality

Build your own reality
It’s better than a dream
The cold and distant street
Is more than you perceive
The only thing you hear
Is a sad tale of love

The endless gap of love
It’s like an abandoned street
A concrete reality
We laugh when we hear
Of what one man perceives
It’s better left a dream

If you take away my dream
You’ll say I cannot love
Solidity is reality
Not a busy street
To work and work to hear
The things you can’t perceive

Of all I can perceive
The solid reality
Someone else’s love
It isn’t just a dream
To touch, to feel, to hear
This busy New York street

I’m standing by my street
In this cold and distant dream
My own tale of love
Is not reality
I will work to perceive
The sounds I cannot hear

You build a reality that isn’t just a dream
The things you perceive are sometimes hard to hear
I’m sitting on this cold, hard street waiting to find love