David Zvekic Poems
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Ode To Words I Didn'T Write
I drifted off throughout that night,
My breath held deep in thrall to art
With words I felt but didn't write -
They fled my pen; I couldn't start.
Although I knew what words devised,
In writing what would never be,
As ink did dry, the words revised,
My words! They had forsaken me!
In muted silence did I oath,
(For grammar too eluded me) ,
And wrote some sentence without mouth,
Expressing drivel where dreams should be.
In writing down did words appear,
And basest letters did transcribe -
My soul said more than air could hear;
It Could Be Worse...
Tho' losses long pushed man to drink,
For reading loud his slip of pink,
Despaired he not, but paused to think,
Aye you'll agree:
It could be worse...
Grief's tears poured down from baleful skies,
Whose bills slow pondered past blank eyes;
When power's cut and taps run dry.