I Write Poetry
Gatherings
Forbodance and last stands
What we left at our own dismay
The tidings of happiness a lost dream
Among the severed and the uninspired
Breaking out along the lines
A mortal murmur of vengeance
A drink from the empty glass
Unfullfilling and bottomless
Ten paces behind and five forward
Lay what could have been a promise
Talks and worries wound into fabric
Everything they want laid bare
Told to all who would listen
Making the reason more bearable
The gatherings of few
Forbodance and last stands
What we left at our own dismay
The tidings of happiness a lost dream
Among the severed and the uninspired
Breaking out along the lines
A mortal murmur of vengeance
A drink from the empty glass
Unfullfilling and bottomless
Ten paces behind and five forward
Lay what could have been a promise
Talks and worries wound into fabric
Everything they want laid bare
Told to all who would listen
Making the reason more bearable
The gatherings of few
