by Glen Martin Fitch
I had it figured out.
It just made sense.
I thought
to ease the pain
and deaden fear,
I'd simply to slink away
and disappear.
This helped a bit
whenever I felt tense.
Till you came,
each dawn I could not think why
I had to rise.
It tore up my insides.
So I took risks.
Tried little suicides.
If nothing happened soon,
I prayed to die.
I'd faced my failure.
Yet I couldn't cope
with my desire.
I left my dreams to laps.
Lost Faith.
Grew cold inside.
And yet, perhaps,
It only happens
when you give up hope.
Now confidence, relief
and new demands.
I'm so damn glad
you messed up all my plans.
- Share this Poem:
ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011