Saturday, January 29, 2022


 Poem #37

When I try to write a poem

It’s my way of telling

The world I love it here 

And I don't want to leave,

Not just yet.

It’s an apology of sorts

A confession to a faceless voice

Behind a red drape.

I know I’ve gone astray.

I never should have smashed

That monogrammed wine glass

Or ignored so many half moons 

Or cursed my life.

But the truth is

I really don't want to go.

I want to stay right here

With everyone I love

And all the things I pretend to know.


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