Longing : A piece of bad poesy
Maybe this is what death is like- A person closes, With thoughts of warm beds and red roses Of rebirth and acts of cleansing He sees white lights with high hopes of deliverance. But he floats on, with longing Acceptance, but no deliverance. Maybe it is what love is like (or the love I know) - Years in longing, years in denial Then years in acceptance, But still longing. I've never had qualms with accepting. I've dealt with my denial and understood yours Understood life and its absurd ways But help me understand this- That why, why When I think of summers and white swings, I think of you When I think of winters and perfectly brewed tea, I think of you And at long night, when I've dealt with another day, When I've smiled the smiles and laughed the laughs Lived through summers and lived through winters (tried) And I sit back, staring at blank pages on my laptop screen, I think of you.