There’s a myriad
Of poems to be written
About the entrancing mystery
Of a lovely girl’s lonely eyes,
The delicate sweet sadness
They softly reflect
In a streetlight’s sympathetic glare
Off a busted sidewalk’s
Rainy teardropp puddle.
I’m the harmless and meaningless poet
Of golden bracelets and vanished dreams,
The melancholy chronicler of feminine wrists
He can no longer kiss.
Certain milk-white shoulders
Just within reach
Look like home
And the perfect place to cry
Like the Patriarch Joseph
When he fell into the arms of Benjamin and wept
After revealing to Benjamin
He was his long lost older brother.
i love it. what else can i say...i am madly in love with everything you write *_* *must...read...more* still searching for that perfect place. eni da kid
A 'myriad' indeed, Uriah...Of all th' poetic priciples that formulate a solid piece of craftsmanship as this...'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''fjr
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In agreement with Doc and Eni... you amaze me... A Perfect Place To Cry is a perfect piece of poetry... I'm in that fanclub! My best to you always, ~Lee