a portrait of sympathetic lines
drawn from a black and white photograph
a still life and its aftermath
listening to reason all the while
a play list that always made me smile
what shines brightly with the sun
runs and hides when the evening comes
as the strangers stop and stare
at a masterpiece that isn't there
memories locked inside a vault
the stones can't hit from the catapult
saying nothing deafeningly loud
feeding loaves and fishes to the crowd
we mourn here what is left alone
once all of the hope has up and flown
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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