Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The trouble is
you don't know me
you colour in
the meticulous hue
of your own understanding
stay between the lines
when I
I am all over the place
a scattered array
of splotches and starts
a mismatch
that hole in the sock
unmendable
promise
true

Sadness rips through me now
I am witness to death and disfunction
Sober mind drunk on suggestions of
mercy

Little corpse still warm to the touch
tiny breaths
gasps of last life
ebb away leave
the stone cold boulder
bleeding heart

I tore away the gauzy haze of
my own imperfections
stood starkly naked
wept for the rolling years
where I hid

Tiny misfortune
intended meal
Bury it now

Beneath the lilac tree
shed somber tears

There is comfort in tears

More than in being numb with grief

I appreciate your poetry

Sober mind drunk on suggestions of
mercy

longing, hope, buried under the lilac tree
but lilacs smell so good
there's still a chance....

this poem encompasses a lot of thoughts. I got a sense of a child, near the middle. The first stanza really struck me--strong openning.

love lots
Deb.

I read it as the loss of a pet, a mouse maybe caught by the family cat. Deep mousey, the way your mind scurries too and fro. Your writng runs outside the lines too painting beautiful pictures on my erratic, mind. Never could color in them lines either and that's trouble for a virgo, lmao "C"

Mercy! ... such trouble...

and the first two lines tell why....

I love, "Sober mind drunk on suggestions of mercy", (later on)....

Look at me-- I'm using parentheses. How studious.