By Edgardo
Used to be a poet
But life cured me of that.
Before I knew it, between work and non-work
And all the company of fools and liars…
The sweet emotion dried and blew bitter
Desiccated to dust and desert wind
And I was left to a world that did not include
Rhythm, verse, or rhyme
Or any of that sort of that silly stuff
Shakespeare dwells in the heart long after
Departing the mind as the old man mumbles fragments
Of word music learned with his heart and eager tongue
In an age when expression and genius came so close
They could almost touch.
As for now, it’s gone into the mist
Some say forever, some say just till next time…
