They Play After Dark

Reads: 217  | Likes: 3  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: MotivationIgnited

The Poets Have Left Us

Submitted: December 11, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 11, 2017



And where my friend have our poets gone? The days of beauty have not left us. The ache of the heart in the bruised lives in those amoung us. Old men know of lies and love. Young men know of nothing.

Catch her eye but touch her soul. Let her never sleep before feeling you lips. Old men, like me, can see around the corners. We are one with the knowledge that her beauty can be known, and men will sing the stories that must be told. But we shall walk a few more miles, and we can sing of her soul. We will never be wise beyond our words and our hands, Yet we shall sing and we shall write and live another day. Young men! Where are your poets? Where is your lust and pain? Young men! Where are your poets? Do your dreams not reside in her eyes? Young men, I fear the corners are to sharp for you, your hands have not been trained. Old men still have our poets, but have long since lost our strength. I for one will take this trade, and gaze upon her heart. Young men you lose this battle, did you even care you fought? If you passed her on the street tonight, could you take her by the hand? If so, what then? What will you say? Can you speak of fear and joy? Young men, I weep for you. You know not what you lost.

© Copyright 2018 Glenn Michael killey. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: