Bonus et Sapiens                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             A la Craig

Quiet lies hide the tide of change

That tries to bloom.

Indiscretion hides a bitter life of regret;

I can’t forget.

Some Sunday sun

Seems benevolent.

I question and I try to remain indifferent,

But the tides, like the ides,

Forbid me from reminiscing

Forbid me from forgiving

Forbid me from living and breathing,

For they only know bereaving.

Conscience, I’ve lived.

Decrepit, and at once livid:

I foresee a day,

A day as righteous as a flower in May.

I deliver my thanks

And I consecrate my

Banks of knowledge.

I’ve got knowledge.

But can I forget all this that I’ve tried to beget?

I want to be a new sapling; a tree. I want to be, but I want to be me.

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One response »

  1. very lovely poem i enjoyed it. thanks from kevin.

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