Read Whimsical Words and Dramatic Affairs Page 4


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  (Note: This is a true story.)

  Untitled

  Aiidoneus, I come close to you in the dark of night

  Before chariots of fire herald the dawn with gladness.

  I lurk just beyond your cold, soothing grasp

  And dance warily away, while teasing your desires.

  I would eat of your fruit, if I knew you’d love only me.

  Rather must I spit out the seed, betraying my progeny

  And ignoring your wise council, so freely given.

  Deep in the center of your darkened house do I sit,

  Hoping for some company to be had, some relief

  To my isolated suffering. Nay, it can’t be given.

  Souls that come to Hades are doomed to an eternity

  Of tears: A fitting price to a life of joy and sunshine.

  Beloved benefactor, although I stand on opposite end

  Of the veil, lusting for just a sight of your countenance,

  My heart is with you still, down in the bowels of magma

  Where the earth is a song, something sung to the tune

  Of an unknown musician’s grave; the notes are forgotten

  To only those that can move on. Society is selective

  In its memory, but not I. I belong in your arms always,

  Your fair Persephone, whose mother fed nations

  And wept bitter tears at the loss of my heart and soul.

  You Made Me Cry

  You made me smile

  I loved you all the while

  Grinning and laughing like a child,

  While seasons were turning

  And I was learning

  Friendship's true depth and meaning.

  You made me cry

  But I kept it inside,

  Disguised it with flashes of pride.

  While you were screaming

  My tears were streaming

  Behind my angry eyes, flashing.

  You made me weep,

  A secret I'll keep

  Not spoken in deepest of sleep

  While you were driving

  My soul of crying

  My tears salting my heart's breaking.

  I stacked bricks high

  Hid inside while they dried

  Determined you won't see me cry.

  While you were pushing

  My feelings became nothing

  Behind my wall I keep dreaming

  We were happy

  Sitting under the tree

  Sharing books and fanciful dreams.

  While you were growing

  I spent time knowing

  And sleep would be a wonderful thing.

  A wonderful thing

  The seasons they bring

  Tears and an empty space.

  You made me cry

  Then you went away

  You made me die.

  The Secret

  I suppose I am the secret that is best left forgotten;

  A squeak in the cupboard explained away by the mice.

  I will hide away by day and steal outside when

  The sun is gone for dark and my memory is ice.

  Toss me in the closet. Pull me out for remembrance.

  Soon cobwebs will blanket me, hiding me from your eyes.

  So sitting in the dust, a relic for forgetful men,

  I will wait until the reason is lost with my cries.

  Moments to Think,

  Thinking in the Moment

  And maybe a Story to Tell.