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Click hereThe night is tired
when pain of past
suffocates the waking hours,
as if all the power
of the world is captured
in the breadth of memory.
We cannot see the way
to know if anything is right
when what was once
emerges from the years
of doing what they said
you should, when trying
seemed a barker's game--
toss a wooden hoop
like hope onto a dream
that never fits
all the way. Not enough
to win the big prize,
just a token in the hands,
a gimcrack consolation,
second best.
Punch the pillow needing
something, maybe only rest
to rock you through the ticking
until dawn.
It matters not.
Belief is not the dreaming,
change is simply moving on.
but I have to agree with Eve on that one section. Maybe I am too simplistic. :) Otherwise your typical excellent self....
...first six words, though I might change "intimidated" to "humbled". Well done!
thats how this flowed from 1 phrase to the next.
very lovely, and words that pierced my own heart.
ty for this!
Maybe my mind is too fluid today, but I thought the poem flowed wonderfully, the words rolled up against each other like pennies in a coat pocket.
"change is simply moving on."
perfect line to end the poem on.
I couldn't quite get the first two stanzas moving through my mind. They were a little clunky but then it all smoothed out.
I really stumbled on this part:
when what was once
emerges from the years
of doing what they said
you should, when trying
seemed a barker's game--
I have feeling that it's only me, though. So, I wouldn't pay too much attention, unless someone else stumbles. I always blame in on my southern accent.
*No longer using the thermometer.