no title

lost.

The one

death chose not to kill

The sun

chose not to light his path

stumbling I   go

thou

know my sorrow not

or

chose not to

 

the pain of the foam

is not

known by the  wave

that bears it

the shore

ignores the despair

of the foam

who beats his head

on its sandy lap

 

does the world know

or care

that the pearl

is the tears of a

wounded oyster

and the

rainbow

is  fermented pain

of

the foam