More in Release the Hounds
envying Keats' nightingale
Who ever gets an legendarily good ode written about them? Certainly not me!
In my left hand
I like to hold a gumdrop
and recite old poetry
by Keats
"That's so sweet,"
she always says
but
my heart aches,
and a drowsy numbness
pains my sense.
I think she does not know
the nightingale as I do --
she was not born for death
like me.
I chew my gumdrop now
as Keats, still tolls
Forlorn, "Adieu"
in my heart.
Does she know I am no poet --
only another bird trying to sing
someone elses song?
Invite participants
Share at Facebook
Share at Twitter
Share at LinkedIn
Reference this page- Monitor
- Recent files
- See also
- » Mar 2007 (196 pages)
- » Sep. 2008 (2104 pages)
- » Week of 03/12/07 (125 pages)
- » Week of 09/29/08 (2037 pages)