for the rhythm
of our dreams
now drifting
away from the sweeter side, we hear
angry whispers,
desperate gestures, hate....
you are what
could be, you are what can be,
you are the
keeper of the poet's dreams...
all about other
people, those I love, loved,
found, resented,
hated...
relating to
someone I know well.
Do you think that's what they'll say,
she was just lost along the way...
