#510
Bitter, it’s a flavour learned with age,
appreciated by the bold,
the sweet is easy
and spice, a dare,
those that grow reach for balance
those that love accept it all.
#511
Hope, is ever with her,
it sits on her lips,
it guards her pillow safe,
it begs me wait,
not to settle,
not to cower to the night,
nor the dark, nor the doubt,
another day, another debt filled,
forever patient,
forever beside her.
#512
In the end, what makes it all
is how it catches the light,
how one might reflect
how one might absorb
the moments
that colour us.
#513
One thousand deaths
is all it ever costs us,
a bargain for the strong
a breeze for the faithful.
One thousand deaths
and burdens countless,
ease only in the choice,
in value of the exchange.
Evermore repeating,
everlonging after you,
One thousand deaths is easy,
when each step brings us new.
#514
Oh i wished away the nighttime
i wished away the sorrow,
in return came only hauntings
and pockets filled with holes,
i asked my friends deep questions,
and i danced away our quarrels,
the nights are long and many,
may we dream of peaceful worlds.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write