Thursday, May 23, 2013

Thursdays Are For Poetry: The Beginning

Thursdays will now be for poetry... at least, on this blog. And I'm dedicating each Thursday poem to Kim P., who says that in hell, she would surely be forced to listen to poetry.

Measure the need
measure the speed
happiness, every inch will bring.

Lock it inside
with your love by your side
while the rain falls
falls down with ease.

Ticking of clocks
rising, falling of stocks
tell of hours we waste away.

While the cool breezes blow -
this won't last, you know -
we'll keep to the insides of ourselves.

The prison of years
is a prison of fears
pressed upon by yourself.

And in the presence of free
you've not learned to be
more than they told you, you were.

We'll drive for miles 
just to walk this porch
to pray these prayers
cast out hope
that you can find

truth about yourself
truth never told you
lies exposed
stones fallen from hands
prison doors flung wide.

Measure the years
measure the fears
find them fallen short.

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