Poetietzsche

Here we are, then 

You and I

As bells are toiling in the twilight sun

Tolling, tolling, till their time is done

Toppling, tumbling, just so, just so.  

Like shooting stars from someone 

You used to know 

Do I weep? Do I cry? 

Do I sigh again?

No. 

Let the mourners come

Let the mourners go

Playing forte 

On the piano

We toe the line then, you and I, you and I

My bare hand around the cold brass

I plod, you lie

Oh God, I did try

Balancing a diamond on a blade of grass

Bending stubborn knees in a Sunday mass

Stifling a sigh

Not knowing why

Only the rose-tinted glass

Could make us see eye to eye.

And yet you taught me to see

You taught me compassion

You said, 

Give me the huddled masses yearning to breathe free

In this shining city upon a hill

Of their own free will

And yet

And still

Scales on the left eye

A beam in the right

The kodachrome vision rationed

To monochrome black and white.

And I have been there, I have 

Where the all-too white primroses grow 

with reckless abandon

And I have seen them here, I know

The signs in the yards, Let’s go Brandon 

In all red caps

I too have seen darkness descend

And wondered is it the end?

Is it really the end?

The final collapse?

Not with a bang,

But a whimper?

So be it 

Let it be so

These ashen hands carried me 

When they were around

Let these ashen hands buried be

In the cold, cold ground

Let the mourners come

Let the mourners go

Playing forte

On the piano

So

Here we are then

You and I

The final goodbye

My hair grey now, like yours

My cap a different shade of red

My wrinkles, traces of lives led

Ploughed by all we said

Furrowed by the pain

That the stars will remain

But we are dead. 

#poetry