I'm not very good at poetry. Never have been, and probably never will be. That being said, I enjoy writing songs and poems. I have a comfort zone in prose that just needs to crumble every now and again. I found a poem last night that I hadn't seen in awhile and thought it might be fun to post, so I tinkered with it just enough that I felt it might be half worthy of sharing. It's not very good, but the emotion I felt at the time still rings true.
We don’t cast any shadows.
We bend and blend, but the sun
will never tell you where we start
and where we -- end.
We are alive but we are bleeding,
blood that doesn’t blow
when the wind whirls us around
We met a girl as sharp as ice
who didn’t bend and didn’t blend
she just --
Sometimes we wish we could break.
that we could
s h a t t e r
so you could slice your hand on our edges
So that our pieces fall like brimstone,
fire and rain on the
-- blackened buildings --
putting holes in the dusty ground
We are dangling from a ..tightrope..
we can push and we --
can pull, but we --
don’t cast any shadows.