A place for prayer.
a Poem
Published on May 9, 2007 By Hazel Target In Writing
Her beauty is not mine
and so it fades without protest;
is sanded down to desert
as I fain disinterest.

She sleeps away her folly
and in silence I agree,
for my claim on her is lesser
than the claim she has on me.

If she wastes away in darkness
who would dare assign me blame?
It is not my place to shine
though I feel guilty just the same.

Comments
on May 09, 2007
This has a lingering sense of hopelessness. Who is she? Well written. - Moskowitz
on May 10, 2007
Very nice.
on May 11, 2007
Thanks. She's my roommate, as it happens. She drinks a bit much.
on May 11, 2007
--double post--