Eric Birdsall

As Dust Settles - Poem by Eric Birdsall

As dust settles,
Old vision focuses on the newly fallen debris,
Smoke rises, and hides what we don’t want to see,
It fills our lungs, and makes it hard to breath,
As dust settles, it settles upon me.

Don’t dust it off,
We both know you can’t dust off this memory,
Leave me a memento, so this experience can’t escape me,
Don’t try to hide it, I’d rather take pride in that, it never got to be,
Don’t dust it off, I refuse to lose this so willingly.

It will store an image,
And when I blink, a black and white photo is what I’ll see,
Torn in two, and badly bruised, both sides will have there crease,
Neither one nor the other is perfect, nor will they ever be,
It will store an image, of when that picture was complete.

But I can’t waste my time,
Dwelling on the past, or I’ll miss what makes me glad,
So live life without regrets or this world may make you mad,
Make you mad like you were, when you found things were so bad,
But I can’t waste my time, dwelling on things I never had.

My head may stay high,
But only when staring, my heart will stay strong, but only when I lie,
My dreams may pass by, without a thing to say, a place holder for a new world, counting down my days,
One can only guess, of what’s to come in the future, but I’ll let it hit me blindsided, as it usually may,
My head may stay high, only because I cannot move it any other way.

Déjà vu’s got the best of me,
It’s got me cornered, but it’s nothing new,
It’s part of life, it’s what I’ve gotten used to,
But I’ll play my roll and continue on this route,
Déjà vu’s got the best of me, don’t let it get the best of you.

The harder I push,
The more pain flows through these fingertips,
The more sympathy passes through these chapped lips,
From one shoulder to the other the weight of the world shifts,
That harder I push, the harder you all resist.

I could let you in,
But we both know if I spilled my mind, I’d have you crying with every line,
Your tears, like wine, get bitter with time, they would soak your shirt, you’d ask for mine,
I could let you in, but I wouldn’t take the chance of your emotions messing with mine.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 3, 2008

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