Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Poetry 3

How many sat where I rest?
A litany of wounds cleaned and dressed.

In these rooms I used to ponder
only after my life torn asunder

Only to return to you's the other
my blitzed eyes pleading with brothers
new brother, old brother
my never change brothers

Dare I stay?
or in blood do I continue to pay

One answer, two choices
his will or follow the voices?

No comments:

Post a Comment