Saturday, February 18, 2006


You never broke my heart
though you sprained it pretty good;
I’m getting by apart
but I’d change that if I could.
Maybe I should start
seeking new relations
but I keep living with
these low expectations.

The edge of your knife
divides me in two,
numb to the strife
you’ve put me through.
I’m living my life
without sensations,
I’m living my life with
low expectations.

The scene of my crime
is an empty stage;
I play this pantomime
with a mannered rage.
I waste all my time,
lacking inspiration;
I keep living with
these low expectations.

Stephen Brooke ©2006

With a bit of development, I suppose I could turn this into a song. Don't know that I'm particularly motivated to do that. And if were a song it should probably be sung by a twenty-something emo guy! It's not 'serious' poetry by any means.

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