Hey there People-
One of my friends accused me of guerilla poetry recently, so
here's one with a sketch from my current journal.
Just out of reach, but so close
All around me, but you cannot be seen
Right in front of me through the shroud over my head,
fumbling for a grasp on what slips away again, over and over.
What could we have together? What have I to give you?
Nothing but the clumsy inadequacy of ignorance, the lost-
willing prisoner chained to a failure to see, to look eyes wide open.
a solitary sentence- judge, jury, and executioner, as one.
Are you unable to come just a little closer, to feel the warmth of my
breast through the dark?
Can you not bring the miracle promised to a heart so in need?
Days and nights pass by, others enjoying your solace while I go without in the cold black vacuum- no warm arms, no sweet lips, no heavenly whispers of love. I have been waiting for you.
CM Shaw
www.shawart.com
