She. A concept.
She stands over yonder. So far away.
I. A mystery.
I sit waiting by sparrows. So close.
We. Our reality.
We stand and sit in different places.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
She. A concept.
She stands over yonder. So far away.
I. A mystery.
I sit waiting by sparrows. So close.
We. Our reality.
We stand and sit in different places.
I watch you walk into the room;
you are a beautiful masquerade.
A confident air hangs around you,
for you have never known “No”.
I watch you stand and sit so well,
then give me a look of disgust.
The player amongst many players,
you are an amusement to watch.
I sit and wait for the hammer to fall,
it doesn’t, and I wonder when it will.
A fault in that elegant demeanour shows,
for one man sees behind the masquerade.
I see you frown and flinch at his words,
then recede into the shadows tonight.
An entertaining amusement for the sick,
I take no pleasure in seeing you fall.
Tonight I will sit and wait for you to return;
so many lessons to learn, sweet daughter.