What to love have you or I brought,
Or to this moment lent?
I for one seek dreams unsought,
While you seek dreams past spent.
All this and more; what pain I’ve wrought,
And words in silence rent,
A message on the printed page,
Now caught within your scented cage.
How to find some hidden means,
And, lo, which road to take?
Your heart and mine—two cold machines
That beat for beauty’s sake.
Scribbling words and causing scenes,
And now this choice to make:
Do we stay and deeper sink,
Or do we slay those thoughts we think?
Where to find a hidden door,
That leads to truths yet known?
Your truths imply that less is more,
While my truths define “alone.”
Somewhere between us we even the score,
And then think, “To each his own.”
Thus, for you I die all day,
Writing words no one bothers to say.
Taken from my book, In Absentia, a Book of Poems and Verses.