adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

CROWNS

This throne is not mine--
I renounce it.
He who would be king
of your realm,
who desires all that you
desire of me,
is weak.

These chains are not mine--
I shed them.
Not even for you
will I wear them.
Not even for you
will I wear
my crown.

Only this heart is mine--
I give it
to you, wrapped up
in borrowed words.
Don't tear them;
they might be used
again.

Stephen Brooke ©2004

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