Poem

Advocating the Use of the English Language as a Vehicle for Poetic Expression

 

The days’ awash in catchy lyrics – snippets of song,

the well-turned-whichever about which

we know nothing, but that

we can graft it onto ourselves.   Though not

quite exact – somebody elses’ good line

about heartache is just more flat-broke

than your own sour burbling.   But perhaps

we’re not so alone, even those of us who,

leaning  forehead to window-glass,

repeatedly whisper the single word

which bears our whole confused heart.

Comments

[Abby]

I feel this way about blog posts sometimes - my own already contained in another's blog. "...somebody else's good line..." Yeah...what you said. Your good line. And my single whispered word? "Scoplaw"