Another Little Thing Poem by David Blake

Needing things, searching in the
dark, fingers numb, never finding
anything, yet my search goes on.
Vapors and whispers mountains
and dreams, across the valleys
the flowers purple, yellow and
green, she exposes her breast to
me. Gone the sorrow, never
felling regret, passing the time
with memories of things that were
never all that good. Shame more
or less, for never seeing, or maybe
something else, it’s hard to think
when you are with someone else.