If my verse
If my verse were not grief born
I would not learn thru pain
it would disappear
seem all too clear
as it melted into other when.
Some griefs need talking thru.
They grab the moment
cling to my body
become my being.
I turn before my mirror
and purr, sweet dear
See, look at the goo
running out of you!
Lorri will say it's ego crap
But I know it's real
Because my words feel.
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Comments about this poem (If my verse by Karin Holloway )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
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