a material illusion in this lucid dream i call my life,
churning, burning, our love riddled with strife.
softly, gently stroking the air of my soul,
scraping away at my bleeding heart covered in coal.
it bleeds forgivingly, a blood of contempt,
compassionate judgement wishing repent.
truth and trust mingling in time,
doubting belief in this short ryhme.
-by me! yay me!
Albert Meyburgh
Wow, I really like your poem. All of them..they range from simple talk about a lemon to this poem..and they all have such a nice rhythm. I can't wait to hear more...
hehe, thanks! I'm so happy someone likes them...! =)