Emmanuel Stone Poems
I have spent much time
living, breathing, feeling
every heartbeat and emotional twang
as the story grew around me.
Now it shall grow no more
like a tree before dying
but its endless leaves and branches
wrap around, and hold me tight.
I watched it unfurl and blossom
but i know now it is at an end
I savor every remaining flavour
and relish the aftertaste.
It is sad to watch a friend fade away
but all things must come to this end.
This story is finished
but mine has yet some way to go.
Cold hard fists in the morning
just to wake you up.
They hurt and sting
and bring you to the glary light.
Cold fists never argue
they state, and state it loudly.
Cold fists cannot be reasoned
for reason is on their side.
Cold fists only stop