Don’t Stop
A poem about you
Published in
Apr 5, 2021
I read the words of a poet but she told me to stop,
I knew she was right since I’d recently lost the plot.
A singer’s song once made me dance but he’s since stopped singing,
not a single second chance.
Before the paint had dried the artist brushed me away,
streaks down the canvas like tears stained and stayed.
We follow because we breathe it,
but we’re carrying questions without answers.
What to do other than look, listen, and read?
A directionless ride but a ride nonetheless.
Forward and reverse are the same,
the only difference is the way we’re facing.
It doesn’t make them wrong, does it?
Life is separate moments of true and false without enough action for either.
I read the words of a poet once,
but she told me to stop.
I didn’t.
