I hate my busy schedule this month, and I hate how it has lead to almost no time to just sit and write, to blog, or scribble down a poem. In fact, I only have time to blog right now because I am in the computer lab killing time before my Intro to Lit class starts, even though I should probably be reading The Glass Menagerie instead. Bah. I hate reading plays.
They're not written to be read, anyway.
Anyway, I'm going to try to write a poem. Let's do this.
"Things are going well," she said,
"and when the company has spread
across the land, he shall be here.
And if he leaves, he'll reappear."
Then one spoke unto another,
"She says I'm not like any other.
She says I'm all she ever sees,
but I have never aimed to please.
In fact, I'm scared. I've never known
a lady so lovely to call my own.
Her soul is like a silver star,
as I watch with the door ajar,
streak across the navy night.
I have never seen such a light.
That is she. And in this case,
I'm the one too small for space.
For she goes. She flies away,
and returns the following day,
but makes a round. I still stand
with firm feet upon the land.
I look up; I wait for her,
but here I stand. I can't transfer.
She's more than I could ever want,
and after today, she will haunt
my every decision afterwards.
And in my future, if I push towards
anything worth my life, she'll sign
my signature on the bottom line.
It won't be me--she'll have my hand--
she's always had my horrid hand.
I cannot live among the stars,
or live that life which wasn't ours.
But I cannot live apart from her,
and so I'm asking you, dear sir,
to take my life. Let me die
before she knows the reason why.
Make it simple, make it quick
however way--I'll let you pick.
Just let her know it was by fate,
not lack of love or fearful hate.
Let her know she has a heart
that truly is a work of art.
Let her know that she has life
apart from being my future wife.
And sir, please say that she may pray,
but my soul was already gone halfway.
For I was nothing; I was dark;
I was too much for her cool spark.
And so, I'll leave for her and be
something she won't have to see.
She will survive without the guilt
of repairing the building she already built.
My dying wish--if only I
could stand and watch her star pass by
before I go. It won't be so,
for now is not her time to glow.
Instead, I'll go in midst of night
and darkness shall be my last light."
Then she said, "My darling, he
is everything I will never be.
He loves me for who I really am,
as if a lion could love a lamb.
He makes me happy and delight
fills my heart with such a light
that near him, I start to glow.
I shine bright so that he'll know
that always shall be in the day
when him and I had found a way
to turn our love into a sun
that shines as though it's just begun."