Stove
by Me
A worn out stove that shatters at dawn
rusted and waiting to die
A pair of old boots a child puts on
while swinging a noose from the sky
A dollop of gruel on an old woman’s gown
A gang of young men raping the town
everywhere look, no good to be found
on the day her voice finally died.
I was in a vale of roses
but saw only thorns
ripping and tearing away.
I know what she meant.
I had the true answer!
But she, she had nothing to say.
Stunning to me, in her candor.
Painful to me, in her light.
Stuck nowhere, wishing hereafter.
To be with her just for one night.
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