Better Left

[E.A Rumfield]

Some songs aren't so nice
Let me tell you of
the misery
as my words
are carried by the wind
across this beaten plain
Let me tell you of this misery
it is
no less important
than the joy
nights I can't sleep
I toss and turn and write this poem
Why am I drunk
raving at the moon
at 4 AM?
Or
Why am I reading you
these words
written on the walls of my
heart?
Some questions are
better unasked
and some poems
better
left

[E.A Rumfield]

Like a wrecking crew, to the
glass house of your imagination
my words
tear down walls
and build stronger barriers
in place of them.
Allow me to paint your brain
with the most profound sorrowfulness
sprung, from the seemingly
mundane.
Allow me to paint your brain
with images
from my own.
Allow me to paint you this picture.
Even though I am colorblind
allow me to paint your brain.
With colors undefined
I'll paint you my
inquisitive mind
on the horizon
my desperate ambition
is the landscape
and my shallow longing
is washing up on the shore.
With a turn of phrase
allow me to paint you
sleeping, peacefully
in the shade.
With colors undefined
by our line of sight
allow me to paint you
scenes from my mind.