"Here Lies..."

(original poem)

I bought a notebook which I won’t use.

But there’s something reassuring there

In the alluring bare pages

Pregnant with prose and plans

For changes - sweeping and lasting

And questions asked in low hushed tones;

Can I be those things?

Will those things be what those things promise to be?

Or on this dishonest dream have I hung my hat?

I don’t really wear hats so I can afford to lose one I suppose.

You know, it’s funny what grows

In caves starved of natural light:

Creatures fashioned by darkness and cruel delights.

Like words rationed hearts write to rot   

In the shadowless sheets

Shone on once by our hand

And by Time’s hand, forgot.