A most poignant write
spilling out into the street
rolling thusly uphill
begging with hope to cleat
thy firm belief to die
refusing the towel's touch
to dab a tear stained eye
and reaching back to much
of the "then", what was used
and not grasping what "is"
to fight back the old abuse
or a new day's open fiz,
thus the tears last night
from failure to pay attention
to the burst of new light
you forgot to loudly mention.
So instead the devil dances
and looks directly in the eye
forcing out potential chances
leaving all for you, but to cry.
Del Cano 2004 May
In response to a poet's lament
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