586
So we choose what we want to decorate our lives
and then find ourselves in empty rooms
with mocking mirrors and the riddle
of how everything can be just as we wanted it
and yet so utterly empty and unfulfilling
I walk these rooms and wait the clock
twist against frustration and strive to see the truth
but I carry weapons against the deadness;
love and memories, pictures and words
faces and touches, family names
they can’t break me on their pressures
though sometimes they send me out
to stumble blank-eyed
from the wicked press of incomprehension
as long as there are children’s smiles
and a woman’s love
I can survive
04-04-83
Irvine at Pick
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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