adventures in dysthymia

Saturday, November 13, 2010

TWO more poems:

first, a new one, hot off the word processor...

Days

One day, these days,
is very much like
another. Sunday
or Tuesday has
the same sunrise,
the same routines
and need-to-be-dones.
And they do
need to be done,
oh yes. Today,
tomorrow, next week.
I'll be there; just
don't ask me what
day it is.

Stephen Brooke ©2010

Nothing special, by any means, just a bit of musing on the way my days all seem to run together now. And here's an older piece, mostly just because it was the last one I was editing.

Mistakes

Love is never an illusion --
a mistake, at times, but real.
A mistake. What a mistake
it can be. But we learn.

Isn't that the old cliche?
Learn from each mistake and end
wiser, sadder, more prepared
for the next attempt at love.

Stephen Brooke ©2001

Ha, I'm not sure we ever are prepared.

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