and the why me poems
always lead to the nobody cares poem
so I’ll just put on my shoes and
play some music,
look out the window at the clouds.

We have discouraged our last poet.

What is this?

Is it a cloud?

Is it a waterfall?

Is it a dream of holding her again?

I started to write this poem,

it was so clever

then memory

crept in

and held me silent

in her arms.

What is there?

 

A golden sunlit day

quietly

waiting for me to

peek

outside.

 

What is stopping me?

 

If only,

why me,

and nobody cares.