Poem

The words I've scrawled across this page
Have a meaning that haunts me still,
Animating in my mind
After all these years they kill.

And so I pick up the pen again
Though it feels foreign in my hand
And stare once more into the Abyss:
The wreckage of all I've planned

My words tend to disarm and charm
Those who come to read
And in their heartbreak, I have planted
From my own ache a tiny seed

Whether it's a weed or flower
I will never come to know
I have never had the patience 
To stay and watch it grow

I sow these seeds in my lines
Nurtured with feelings I cannot say
And when it comes time for them to bloom
The world can reap whatever it may

I think I prefer it this way
Let my echoes remain unknown
Let them take this how they will
And leave me in my darkness...