Excerpts from a diary of heart on sleeve :
Poets come and Poets go . . .
Hanging on to starry-eyed contentment's ,
beyond the hour, a time for letting go
Stifled in a haze at these mazy crossroads ;
silence betides tired supplications
from this diary a heart on sleeve - -
Propensity stirs up eddies in the ether dust ,
while dizzyingly pacing a gilded cage
I cannot find the labyrinth through it ,
nor the strength to carry the weight of the arduous load ,
to swim wearily against the prevailing tides
forbearing an immeasurable gravity borne alone ,
knowing we cannot be . . , if we cannot be who we are - -
Seasons do inevitably change
without conscience or sympathy ,
invisibly eroding the shape of life ,
forevermore turning the tides again . . .
harlon rivers . . . feb 2015
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