PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

No longer prone to the wind.

Unswayed by the breeze -

          the gust that blew everywhere

          in all directions

          just to be felt,

          just to buckle some knees.



Mistakes walked hand in hand;

lovers, shamefully unaware of each other -

          Means married to Ends:

          however pragmatic,

          the one-way streets

          would eventually vanish.



So I meandered, over the mobile puddle

of my tears,

into a roadside bed of oleander

and laid face-down -

          indulged, once more

          in a pretty poison.