sip and cringe
until the day gets brighter
brushing off these dusty memories
of a love that could have once been
but wasted once again, yes,
left out with the dumpsters
and taken away.
and what we've got left
are these gutters,
so i drink what flows
through them, and i must
be appeased.
but love is wasted
and floats,
like a spirit after death
finding its place, and maybe
it never does,
but it floats and floats
for time carries,
and time must destroy
the immortality of love,
like all great things,
ceasing to exist.
and i must let you know,
the disappointment of our
expectations are inevitable
so drown them along with your love
what we need now is hardness-
a suffering untouched,
unwillingly subjected,
so maybe you can then see,
yes, what your life is about,
what you figure youve been
placed for,
and let me rid you of your convenience,
a writer, some poet,
probably always,
sipping and cringing,
until the day
must get brighter.