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;
No hope nor dream did yield its fruit while others reigned above it;
Whose masters deemed to crush the will of those who dared not love it.
The farce that we would call 'free will' - the will to do as told:
No choice to live this - my own life - in unchained hands to hold.
Though no one born of woman did bring more into this life,
Nor brought with him a greater thing than any human life;
And none did give two lives or three, or naught of greater worth.
For none another Sun did shine