I Love to Write

4:37 a.m.

The water drop quivers on a blade of grass
My digital device blasts far and away Philip Wesley

What makes the seed sapling grow
Is it a soul?
And who then brings the blight
And why does it come only by night

I know the hour and place
where the blank pages begin
And how is it a sin?

( I want to put in words
the curve of your back )

Yes, I have lost someone that I loved, but you sister, have lost a child from above.
How sis did you get through?

I have sinned and left the sin stinging to my skin but father have you not sinned?
How father did you get through?

And I have watched you there
just beneath the stair with
your hands wriggling in your hair
for a brother who left without a care
Mother.. how did you get through?

And why is there no delete
for memories
Stuck On Repeat, repeat, repeat
The endless deceit
Of days in the street

I ly down in the street
and close my eyes
and repeat from memory

What one writes is not reality
but dreams unslept
Sleep, sleep, sleep.