Sonnet 47

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2009/10/05
Sonnet 47

You've seen his eyes, you know.  How this must end
was not as I had seen, but what do I 
know?  He does things that I can't comprehend
nor care to care enough to try to try.

You've heard his words, remember?  What this means
won't matter once I'm silent, not to me.
I can't do like he does, those aren't my scenes,
nor want to want to be so they might be.

This doesn't mean I plan to disappear —
The day will come when you'll see through his lies
around back through to us, and I'll be here.

Nor does it mean my longings won't be heard
once boredom scales his tongue like a disease —
this moment will be put in its own word.

Tagged with: ,

Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: