Perfect

It’s never perfect, the kind of love I wish to project. Piece by piece, I figure it out. There are a great many unselfish people in comparison… one who can give more, share more light. This is the desire, the goal. Perhaps through words, I can try to break down the blockage, the darkness. With each stroke of a letter, perhaps love can seep through the cracks, find its deserved clarity.

in time, in time
let go the crime
survive the war
these selfish signs
stop signs, ignorant signs
briefly, can I ask,
do I cross your mind…
because when I think of love
I think I’m about to die,
I think of life passing by
I think how cowardly if I don’t try
ask for a prayer, ask for a sign
do I cross your mind?
Because when I think of love,
I think of gold and treasure chests
I could never have…
and I think what must you think,
if I don’t cross your mind,
could I cross anything at all?
Because if you had to ask
what was on my mind…
a long, vast cross walk resides
of heaven and God with you
beside

-mr gahon 10/15/13

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About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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