The Lake*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
...because you are great...

Submitted: July 02, 2008

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Submitted: July 02, 2008

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How can I call you a beautiful lake
When all you are is water and mud?
The pretty mist that should be
Around you is only in my head,
And nothing but weeds line your shore;
Sharp rocks and pebbles are embedded
In your depths with a sole purpose
To hurt me, to hurt my feet,
As I wade gingerly in you.
Everything sems so close to you
Except for the sky,
And that is unacceptable
Even for you
But you can only cry,
Making yourself less than what you
Should be. Truth be told, I do not
Think of you as much, but I envy you,
Even though you lack the pretty
Water lilies, or the dew and the shimmering surface,
Because you are still bigger than me.


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