 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Stumblings |
|
|
|
June 29, 2003 |
|
|
|
The morning pounds into my brain |
|
|
|
But time moves on and the tide flows |
|
|
|
|
|
Like tumbling stones |
|
|
|
Onward toward this ending |
|
|
|
|
|
You are gone from my universe |
|
|
|
Again each time quieter in me |
|
|
|
|
|
The wishing star no longer fills my sky |
|
|
|
With its inevitability |
|
|
|
|
|
This time it has to be ended |
|
|
|
Until I move this time through the words |
|
|
|
|
|
I can't keep waiting for this moment |
|
|
|
And the playful proddings |
|
|
|
|
|
Then hoping |
|
|
|
For you to leave your despair and see |
|
|
|
|
|
Then waiting again |
|
|
|
That you are cared for |
|
|
|
|
|
As I see your moods fluctuate |
|
|
|
But it is not enough |
|
|
|
|
|
With the certainty of a tide |
|
|
|
You cannot trust the woman |
|
|
|
|
|
Hoping against hope |
|
|
|
In me and so you leave |
|
|
|
|
|
That the moons will change their course |
|
|
|
I keep my final word to you |
|
|
|
|
|
With weakened knees not holding me |
|
|
And leave you free to exorcise your demons |
|
|
|
|
|
|
From the floor |
|
|
Once and for all |
|
|
|
|
|
|
But I do not bend them to you to beg |
|
|
|
What you cannot give and when at last |
|
|
|
You go you ask if there is more and I |
|
|
|
In brave foolishness |
|
|
|
Say the words I wanted to say |
|
|
|
One request that meant the world to me |
|
|
|
And you walk out eyes coldly arrogant |
|
|
|
With words like gunshots |
|
|
|
Shooting my one last hope |
|
|
|
Now shattered pieces on the floor |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Contents |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|