Knifing The Shadow Of Storni Poem by gregory collins

It's all right to come from your eyes
when you thought tomorrow was beyond our control
and yestrerday with all its mistakes and cares
is like watching a child eat their last meal

and i have sat on her grave
on an afternoon on a struggle to survive many evenings
as the obituary column isn't surprising
it is brilliantly structured with all its possible adversities

and you cannot erase a single word you said
we are all burdened with two eternitites
of which one will never be born
like nothing makes sense when responsibility screams how deep the soul runs

of which there are no rules
sometimes to be a poet is to be a pest
and why would anyone think before they know
like a drug bites the nails and lights up my nights

like i learned to swim screaming while the ocean was laughing
and on my grave the sunshine will almost certainly not work
but there will be a light holding a hand
some embers that can be yours

and i hope you found a special rose that has the great voices that yearn to be there
because it still hurts to play with my heart, knifing the shadow of Storni