Every answer bears a question
Every hope echoes despair.
Search deep within the hearts of men
Cold and empty inhabit their stare.
And I not much less lost
I who speak of love divine.
Like a coin turning in an upward toss
My soul is lost between the lines.
See the rose, watch it wilt
And the baby's innocent cry.
The sword is bloodied to the hilt,
And all that is beautiful will die.
Every question begs its answer
And our despair believes in hope.
Humanity, this tired old dancer
An acrobat clinging to a bit of rope.
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These poems posted this month so far are all older ones...mostly from my very early 20's...they show a less mature, more innocent individual... often wracked with good old protestant guilt. Feel free to skip any of these if you are looking through. Most of the newer stuff is much more interesting. I thought I'd post them all here just to keep the collection more or less complete. I have more to add that were never typed up...and I may or may not do so in the future.
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