Free Verse
Commencement
the day
always starts with tears;
the dawn is crying
morning weeps
staining the grass with lamentation
and trembles on her knees
at the edge of the valley
Messages
alchemists
turn blood to money
talk of their own failures
more easily than of others’ goals
and teach us only
what we need not comprehend;
our minds go dead
with the fatigue of emptiness
Haunted
Weave
the act
of knitting my life gray,
a goblin clicking gibberish
has caused
unraveling that trails
and tangles me in the frayed past
the air
never answered to my reach
it never will reply, I guess
yet still
it is there to reach to
and always will remain, I know
