Chin on tired hands,
snowed shoulders,
flowers on screen
take the low road
and the trees are tall
and the darts are sharp
and twisted
and rusted
so many years
so many tears
so many fears
twisted
and rusted
and what is there
to say?
what is there
to say,
really?
(11 August 2006)
Diana van den Berg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/disappointment-56/
