#235
So many beautiful, simple,
things, lolling by my windows,
perhaps i am too generous,
perhaps i am not generous enough.
Either way i am grateful
for the breeze against the sweat
scattered across my brow, and the
Sun, slowly peeking from beyond
the clouds
#236
Those answers, those answers.
If only i could have it all
defined. To know. To clearly
see the path, why i would
simply charge through it. Perhaps
reminding myself about the
joys of mystery is in
fact the great truth, and,
truth be told, knowing could be
quite boring. At least,
in the darkness
there is always hope.
#237
i need to make haste
in the last of the light,
moving quick before
the darkness,
they say its safe, yet,
i’d hate to find the truth
for myself either way.
#238
i thought i could
fill pages
with line after line,
of words upon words,
how can i fill
your heart, much
less a page, when
my head is utterly empty.
#239
Luke warm and
bitter, reminds me
of me. i’ve never
been so happy to sit
in a hell hole
sipping as they pass,
awash, all around me.
it’s been a long day.
it’s been a good day.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write