Poetry
punk4
/
Dedicated to the rangers that stride into our lives
teaching us to believe in the magic that is in each
one of us. The only being better is the one inside.
I salute you and I thank you.
Angela
NEVER KNEW
He wooed me for years.
He wrote about me all the
time.
I never knew.
I never read.
Was afraid I’d find
other names,
other times,
other games.
He kept all those furtive
notes that never meant a thing.
Kept them wondering
what they’d bring. Nothing, nothing, nothing
And now when the hair
Is nearly gone,
The eyes left bare.
Now I can see his soul.
But we have no time left
To share.
He wooed me forever. And I.
I never knew.ING
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