I would say the steps are steep,
but you'd say it's not true.
You'd tell me they were deep,
rife with mysteries asleep.
A sojourner learns
that love is not to keep.
I would say the castle sits so still
but you'd say it's not true
You'd point out all the dancing shadows,
souls that never inked a quill
A nomad learns
a silent muse can kill.
I would say the sun is running
but you'd say that's not true
We, in fact, are turning our back
it's a clever ruse as we stand and accuse
The widower learns
that we don't always get to choose.
By tuesdaypillow used with the permission of the poet.
All rights reserved