Sonnet of Separation

What of the mistakes we can't help but make?
Devil in the details, changed without thought
What can we make of birthday, without cake?
Without promise of that which we have not?

What we have too much of, that is our fuel
Where we are lacking, that is what we seek
Toggle of yes or no sparks the primed pool
Lighting up The Starry Night as I speak

We have made our choice, and they have made theirs
Like a briefcase each narrative folds all
Each are uninvolved in other's affairs
They are to us as we were to them: small

They knock, but we do not know them, truly
For right now, meet no strangers unduly.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Step by Step On The Open Ocean

(W)rest Control

Verdict