PAIN

Pain
a wistful gripping
at the sunlit window pane. . .

to see
and to imagine
from under shaded canopy
a veritable panoply
of things i can and cannot see
that I can
shun or choose,
and lose or gain. . .

to hope
that some day
I’ll be once more free
and have that lucky chance to be
the one that I was born to be–
no grief, no fear, no agony–
fit to walk
all by myself,
or happily in company.

And to think
of all of you,
with me or not,
to love you deeply
through and through,

and naturally wish
the same to thee,
and thee and thee–
and thee and thee.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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