They put me on hold
And jazz
Swirled me away to brighter days
Soaking up the sunbaked sadness
Of broken living
so many generations in
It happens after the funerals
that moment you decide to begin again
And the world continues
Like it isn’t some strange new thing
Like it hasn’t noticed
All the black you’ve been wearing
In the summer sun
While the jazz plays on
They left me on hold
The days
That aged me.
Tag Archives: funeral
Pauses
Writer’s Remorse
Glad to hear you’re doing well!
I can’t complain! Doing fine,
Though I’ve got this feeling lately
Maybe it’s finally time
To pull all the words I’ve written,
Pile every piece into one tall pyre,
Every jot and every tittle,
And the light the whole damn thing on fire.
But what’s the point?
I can’t escape who I am.
If I burned every thought to earth
I’d take the ash and begin again.
viewingcamelot 