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