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by Logan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2135533
A long poem about missed opportunities, keep swinging
Green & Black

I tried my best and faltered
Sometimes its not enough
The things I'd wished I'd altered
The diamonds in the rough
With coal left on the fairway
No pressure in cropped grass,
and time choked up in airways
Each breath could be our last
Best to go out swinging
Than leave unsure on knees
Lest we cease our singing
Muted are our pleas
Silent are our questions
Non-existent, the replies
With truths lost in regrets and
Futures lost in lies
Epilogues half empty
Preludes full of hope
Prologues set to tempt me
… if I just use enough rope
Enough to get knot up in
Enough to bridge the gaps
Enough to grapple, swing in
With offers hanging, lapsed?
Time's portrait, crooked, slanted
Frames straightened, angled, slick
Space sacred, took for granted,
and time that slides to quick
Sand slipped through the narrows
Through glassine chances blown
Alas time's oft cruel arrows,
only fly one way... their own
With fate, a fickle bowman
So many strings on show
Everybody loves a showman
Our arrows have their flow
Sometimes all too often
That river weaves too wide
When rapid water softens
You're on the other side
The other side of midnight
Your light, so bright, I see
My stars glisten in numbers bright
Just not the one for me
She shines up there for someone else
For others in the flow
Fate's arrow flies with time itself
We harvest what we sew
Threads that we are given
The colours through the twine
The roads on which we're driven
Weaving through our time
Touching other's rainbows
Trading different threads
It's funny how the dream goes
The places where it heads
With some lost in the ether
The ones that grip till dawn
The one's who stay together
The ones to whom we're drawn
Following the outlines
We colour in the soul
Play within our confines,
our humble lump of coal
Yet coal left unattended,
with some hard spent pressure, time
When vulnerable, we're splendid
That's how you build the shine
A shine not built on fairways,
in the safety of the green
In the smoothness of the green baize,
the lay is never seen
The land behind the alter,
long lush grass, I dare not touch
I tried my best and faltered
… you can want something too much
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