When The Time For Talk Is OverA Poem by CH ArchiveSomething I put together tonight..When The Time For Talk Is Over The raindrops are holding a sunday mass on my back window Trickling down the church isles ever so gently Slowly weaving through their scarlet blasphemy. The thunder clouds act as a poignant reminder Sketching a portrait of all the ones that blurred the congregation Fading like condensation on a shower curtain. I have been to the edge of the deepest reservoir I have been the author of the most distressing memoir All of that in a days work. It seems to me that we start to belong right before we leave And through it all we are the martyrs of optimism Only to become bitter old men circling the cape in the evenings. I've been told theres a way out of everything A plan etched somewhere in the flesh of our lives ebb Dwindling between the cognizance of yesterdays rain drops. But in the end all of that is just backbiting Handsome words dressed up to cover up the appalling reality That one day the rain will eventually end. © 2012 CH ArchiveAuthor's NoteReviews
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18 Reviews Added on July 31, 2012 Last Updated on July 31, 2012 AuthorCH ArchiveMontreal, CanadaAboutWont touch a thing-- to those who find this, enjoy the glimpse. more.. |

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