Day #15

A poem from February 2010, about being a poet. Inspired a bit by reading poetry by e. e. cummings, who I LOVE.

It seems to me
a melancholy profession
always sighing and longing
and looking at stars
and wishing to fly
up away from the earth
but never escaping
gravity's grasp
so to make up for that loss
you add to the chorus
of wishes flying with the wind
eventually
(maybe when the earth dies)
becoming stars
but there are so many
most so dim
their names are forgotten
and all your wishes
are unheard
like the rest


I wrote it so long ago that I don't remember what I wanted to eventually become stars, I think it was either the wishes or the poet. Who knows!
Kelia