Where has my songbird gone?
My muse, my spark?
I was once a poet
For a short time
Verses of love and beauty
Flowed
Like water from an overturned cup
Yet that was so long ago
So long
So very long
The water from that spill
Flowed like a river
For a time
For a time
Did it dry up?
Why did the waters stop?
Or was it dammed up
And waiting for a break?
There was a time when those waters flowed
Like never before
And nothing since
Nothing has cause them to spring forth
As they once did
For the waters once flowed
Like mad
But I was never quenched
Where has my songbird gone?
I let her go
She may have needed to be free
But my spirit has flown with her
-
Corbie
I look back at all the poetry you and I put to paper the summer of 99 and wonder. What happened?
ReplyDeleteOf course there are also those stories. Maybe we should start writing them again?
Perhaps we should. As for the first part of your comment, I think I let life get the best of me.
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