Saturday, May 05, 2007

Poem #125 of 365

I clutch my pain as a thief
in grief when the sound alarm
brings security to everything
and everyone but him.

Even my hands cannot hold
my arms as the aching burn
escalates with rage.

You may think that swollen
muscles are sexy, and it may
be hot when they are plumped.

But I am tightly wound like
wood around a tiny pencil point
and there is no happy way
to write this down.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez


LAWSTUDE said...

wow. ur blog is a great read. have a nice day.

a.k.a. sunlit doorway said...

thanks for checking it out.
am scrambling to keep up with
my 365 poems in 365 days
commitment. usually, i end
up sacrificing sleep in order
to get some posting accomplished.

have a nice late night/early morning.