Sometimes a person
Is not just a person
But a hope
A path
A lantern
A voice
Calling as you scramble
Your way out of the rubble
Category: Poetry
Mismatched
The nice thing about socks is that they always have a mate
You know when one is lost because it was made for another
Two by two, pairs, not ever alone, folded together
But life lived out is never that simple
In particular
Most days I am wary
I have seen the machine
I know the powers that pull
A gold pulpit’s fragile strings
5319
Tomorrow we will all get up
And go about our days like normal
Tomorrow the sun will shine
And spring will once again attempt
To show us hope and life.
Tomorrow the Twitter wars will rage
And someone on Facebook will ask
For recommendations to a restaurant.
Tomorrow the farmer’s market will open
And the cars will race
to their Saturday destinations
Tomorrow the world will know what I do now.
Continue reading “5319”
Invisible Cake Society 