adventures in dysthymia

Sunday, November 25, 2007


Time ran out and closed
the door behind it.
Day dissolved in dark;
I could not find it.

Did I sing your song
but still not know it?
Might I then have loved
but feared to show it?

By a chance misled,
I wouldn't take it.
I lie in this bed
but I won't make it.

Blind I may have been
but now I see it.
No one else but I
could choose to be it.

Now I have a story
will I tell it?
Think I'll box it up
and try to sell it.

I become a bird
so I can wing it.
Though I learned your song
I'll never sing it.

Stephen Brooke ©2007

another song

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