9/11/11
No poetry describes a sense of loss,
When true acuity can't be conveyed.
No weighty words can balance out the cost,
That comes of what is gone and can't return.
Time is the only scribe that speaks a verse,
Which calms the horror of a heart that aches.
It's meter, measuring the pain at first,
Becomes our story as we slowly learn.
Written by: Larry Sansone. In order to hone my writing skills (and for my own silly amusement) I am launching the O.C.P. Project: one poem per day for one year. I started the project on Jan.1, 2011 and completed the last poem on Jan. 1, 2012. Poems will be posted daily, whenever possible.
