Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Emptiness of Things

Things lure with artificial promises
Leading to empty delusion
Never satisfying our formless lusts
With shiny and plastic profusion

Things are cold and hard and unfeeling
Its thrill is hollow and brief
An arrangement of emptiness, visually appealing
Unable to offer relief

But the night coming down with misty sighs
Quieting the noise of the day
The planting of dreams as I look in your eyes
The rush of the willow limbs sway

A touch full of warmth and wondering and wanting
A thrill wild and bittersweet
Causes things to fade with pathetic taunting
Like pebbles beneath our feet


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