Thursday, February 5, 2009

A Lonely Compass

I’m supposed to follow its pull

North, south, east, west until

A force yanks the needle to be still

And the arrow just points without will

 

Something inside has gone silent

Temptation it seems is now absent

My emotions flow without current

As the would’ves turned into shouldn’ts

 

Age is the weapon time wields

Its provocative future holds appeal

Yet none matters so much as when it steals

Sweet innocence worn like a shield

 

To be lovely should little girls stay

Year to year until their hair turns gray

Changing hearts through each heartache

Teaches hope when to sleep or stay awake

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