Thursday, October 2, 2008

sonorous brother

where have all my old lovers gone?
and do they ever think of me
or do they float on the winds of joy and life
like seeds of grass to grow completely free

i will rattle my shackles
in an envious tenure
thinking how my affections changed
and made them see me as manure

hope as we may that we did
learn lessons from those gone by
hope we got something from that lovely art
something for the hole each one left in my heart

but we grow
and even hurts of the heart may heal
and leave the scars
of love's great spars

on we look to the new horizon
hoping theres someone out there in the storm
to see us cowering against the wind
to pick us up and keep us warm

bereft of hope and seeking life
like aliens we stumble
hobble about
pained by those who cannot understand us
those we cannot comprehend

exquisite pain
for those of us whose butterfly wings
have been stripped and torn
before we could even on the wind be borne

so for now i must forget i had such wings
forget that i could ever fly
on hearts tremultuous winds
on mother's woven sky

and i must seek to be another
seek to be the man i never was
the man i should have been
or else die as a cold weather shudder

-stark botha

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