i.
sometimes it hurts to think about it. . .
So won't you--come;;
think about it with me
&& we can dwell on--togehter
like the houses asleep below the moon
how their roofs offer no shelter
&& a white-pickett fence, no guard
the noises that stir my senses at night
don't belong to their neighbors, around
ii.
i've watched the silver drop out of the sky
&& i've felt the cirrus sob at thier loss
but still i know better, now--there'll be
no light--to expose me--here after
iii.
sometimes it hurts when i. . .think too much
sometimes it hurts when i think about it. . so,
won't you come, think about it with me?
we could stay til our tears turn sour,
&& i could have something to sleep under tonight
Comments
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I like the title! It fits the poems tone. Misery does love company, and you sent out the cry for companionship over all those things that bother you, that you dwell upon.
It is one of those unique poems that seems allusive and yet with enough concrete meaning to keep the reader feelings that they undertand
I like this one, and again, you are a talented critter!
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