woke up this morning
underneath pen and notebook
ashtray holds last thought
...................................................................
wiery eyes lounging
so softly upon the words
teardrops gave mercy
...................................................................
insecurities
were trickling down face and spine
till it reached the page
...................................................................
and now once again
trembling, stretching towards
yesterday's remnants
...................................................................
fingertips collect
residue from the borders
of innuendoes
...................................................................
pulled from the ashes
reviving my displacements
these heartaches take shape
...................................................................
solemn voice whispers
these sentences so sincere
spliting the silence
...................................................................
"forward i approach,
four corners my audience
for another chance"
...................................................................
understanding now
in the hours of mourning
ashtray held first thought

I'm surprised no one has commented on this one. I think it is awesome. In fact, I think it could develop easily into a long poem....~Q~
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Not just a poem a whole novel. How well I remember trying to write the
right words over and over and burning them so noone would see how stupid
I felt. Nicely said.--GrandmaThing--Do write more, please!
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~Q~
You always were the best at discovering the good ones. I agree with you
and GrandmaThing, it says a whole lot in three lines.
opto