A snare,
A snare,
your heart is a hare,
wherever it ends up in,
there is a snare.
Or it’s a deer
enmeshed in a huge net.
When you feel most free,
the net is being gathered.
2015/5/15
I am a coward
admiring those who took bulletsand their lives gave out scents
like nectar being poured on Earth.
If my whims had wings,
they would be knives of Justice
flying and cutting.
I wish I had talons of eagles
bringing terrible gifts
to comfort the most mistreated.
I am the unfortunate bard
in Odysseus’s hall in his absence,
in Odysseus’s hall in his absence,
but I don’t sing lofty songs,
I sing my own weakness,
I sing in sorrow to dampen the merrymaking,
I sing with hope to ease my hatred,
I sing in expectation of a miracle
that the thorns in my heart
will one day blossom to lull my hurts.
2015/5/15
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