Poetry of a Conlanger

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


“Isn’t it ironic that the people you love most always hurt you the most?” –m. weaver

Didn’t I swear
It would not happen again?
Again, again…
They say,
“What goes up must come down.”
How true;
I’m always up
Until the cruelness shoves me down.

I nearly wonder if the Ups are
Worth it,
But they’re not.
They’re not.

So douse me with virgin oil,
Strike a match-
Quickly, now-
And watch me
Go up
In flames.


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