Posted by sleepygirl2 on February 19, 2012, at 12:05:39
In reply to Do you ever feel your issues are so minor..., posted by b2chica on February 16, 2012, at 13:23:09
561
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes
I wonder if It weighs like Mine
Or has an Easier size.I wonder if They bore it long
Or did it just begin
I could not tell the Date of Mine
It feels so old a painI wonder if it hurts to live
And if They have to try
And whethercould They choose between
It would not beto dieI note that Somegone patient long
At length, renew their smile
An imitation of a Light
That has so little OilI wonder if when Years have piled
Some Thousandson the Harm
That hurt them earlysuch a lapse
Could give them any BalmOr would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve
Enlightened to a larger Pain
In Contrast with the LoveThe Grievedare manyI am told
There is the various Cause
Deathis but oneand comes but once
And only nails the eyesThere's Grief of Wantand Grief of Cold
A sort they call "Despair"
There's Banishment from native Eyes
In sight of Native AirAnd though I may not guess the kind
Correctlyyet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing CalvaryTo note the fashionsof the Cross
And how they're mostly worn
Still fascinated to presume
That Someare like My Own
poster:sleepygirl2
thread:1010446
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20120217/msgs/1010834.html