adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

SPEND

I've made no promises
I could not be keeping;
I've sown no strangers' fields,
For I'd not be reaping.
I've seen no need for truth,
When lies best lie sleeping;
Who of us would not leave
When the dawn comes creeping?

I've learned, by light of day,
Lovers fade to friends;
And though we say goodbye,
Leaving never ends.
I've spent my words unwisely,
As a sailor spends;
I've borrowed and forgotten
What tomorrow lends.

Stephen Brooke ©2008

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