Fri, 07/26/2013 - 21:51 -- LANE♥

Who you were

It seems so long ago

that you gave him to her

It seems so far away

Yet, I feel inclined to infer

it was a very sad day

The one in which you went away


It's been such a long while

I often forget who you were

How we all used to smile

How laughter would stir

Then you tossed yourself aside

and I can't imagine why

But, as I tend to forget who you were in the past

it's understandable that you, too

would forget of wearing a mask


Which causes me to wonder

if you'll ever come back

It seems not,

as if you've added yourself to a stack

of papers

that contain lists

of what is yet to be done,

yet to be fulfilled

But don't you see

that you are the

earth untilled?


As the ink dries on the paper

so does your land

Topsoil begins to die,

you'll have a dust bowl at hand!

Don't you understand?

What a shallow place you've laid yourself to rest

leaving grave concern

to those who've witnessed you at your best


I never heard you speak an ill word

about another

until you wrapped your arms around your lover

as she continues to smother

and take

all else becomes a rake

As it grates across

stirring up things you have lost

along the way,

the specks of dirt spring to your eyes

as you continue to decay

Blinded and unable to find the light

you burn in the sun

Perhaps this is why you prefer night?

It's a time to forget of your plight,

of things unfulfilled and undone

The weight of a girl

becomes less of a ton

But morning will come


The comfort of forgetting you've lost yourself

will not end this drought

You can sit... and wait

for rain to come about

You'll still be the land

After all, that won't change

But nothing will grow, you won't feed a soul

There you'll sit, lonely

with nowhere to go

and no one to visit

except one who's tears began it all

Is this what you wanted, is it?

Those tears will continue to fall

A barren place cannot stop them, only stall

only catch them

and add them into itself

never enough to help

neither land sprout a stem

nor the gardener

who never did learn

to keep alive a plant

After all,

she can't.


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