Dedicated

Sitting on the window sill
Staring at the moon
Whittling a word
That really moves me

No future
No past
I’ll just sit here
Extracting hearts
From my arrow

History recycles
Within their realm
Of uninventiveness

The laughter in your eyes
Makes me cry
Makes me too tired to eat
Too lazy to die

So I whittle this one word
Splintered in my mind
A simple word
One some won’t understand
It’s the one that arms me

Tania

© 2006, Mosquitobyte