Thursday, May 06, 2004

The Time: Late at night

The Place: A small, enclosed space (ie. my apartment)

The Problem: want to write about something, but not really thinking about anything.

So, I'm thinking I'll post some poetry. (I know... *groan*... not more people posting their crappy poetry). But seriously, did you ever meet a beautiful woman that made life unbearable simply by her outstanding beauty, even if just for a few days? Here's a poem about one I met. whew.

Alas, that such a vision should exist to haunt my dreams.
A travesty, that I should breathe the beauty that she beams.
If I had never gazed at such a lovely form as this,
My mind had never wandered to desire a tender kiss.
I would have been content to think such beauty wasn't real,
Just the talk of fairy tales, or something that you feel.
But no!, she really walks and breathes and haunts the world of life,
An instrument of torture much more piercing than a knife.
Alas, that I have seen what's more inspiring than the sky.
For now the forms that once were grand seem naught but all awry.
And if I wake and find my mind released and all forgot,
I'd count it but a blessing and my life a happy lot.

And that's it. Not too painful I hope. I know, the knife line is a little bit out of place, and kind of a stupid rhyme. But I liked the lines after that a lot. There's no title. I have yet to think of a good one, even though I wrote the thing like a year and a half ago. alright. Anyway
The dreamers are the sad and weary.

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