Derelict

I can't do it anymore
This constant waiting
Derelict
Expecting a solution
That might never come
Should I preempt it all
And strand the world
And leave them waiting for me
Everyone knowing full well
That I've gone someplace
From which I can never return
A. E. Housman rings thick in my head today
"Good creatures, do you love your lives
And have you ears for sense?
Here is a knife like other knives,
That cost me eighteen pence.
I need but stick it in my heart
And down will come the sky,
And earth's foundations will depart
And all you folk will die."
I read this thinking of my options
But as always to afraid to go there

This isn't so much a poem, but, what i suppose would be called, a meta-poem. A poetic commentary including a quote of yet another poem.

-o0o-
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!