To East,
I hate the pond
it is too still.... and it hears me
it is not like the wall that hits me
with the words
I said and makes me realize
my wrong.... it accepts me
when I look at it
I tear up and
it empties me.... but also fills me
I scream, I shout
it doesn't say anything in
return to stop me.... it makes small
lapping waves with low sounds
telling me that it understands me
I hate the pond
maybe because it's
blue.... and your eyes were too
I hate the pond because
even if I want to.... I can't
I wish you the best,
West
*
