Of Muses And Other Ghosts
Only Fools Stumble
'At the edge of paper,
wondering if he should return
into reality's arms, his mind
giving the needed push: '
How long will you keep dragging her shadows
across your love poems?
if love is disgraceful in her whichy heart.
Why do you draw her eyes,
in the places you go to rest at night?
Can't you see it's already over, the love?
Why are you hurting yourself today?
Didn't she hurt you enough yesterday?
It's more than three months, and you,
what the hell are you still sobbing for?
For her? ... Ha Ha... You fool!
What do you want from yourself?
Tell me, tell yourself, and get past it already.
To stumble over a woman,
only a fool would do that.
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