Of Muses And Other Ghosts

(7 march 1988)

I Think I'll Paint It, On The Walls Of My Grave


No matter how many times,
good bye, sprouts on my lips,
I always end up, among the leaves
falling from your yellow castle,
writing you a new poem
of love and betrayal.

Your castle, with it's towers
seems like he's trying to grab the stars.
But some of them are mine, woman.
You are such a monster!

But you are also beautiful, with your gold hair,
with your green eyes and freckled cheeks,
and maybe that's my
reason
for not letting my heart forget your face.

And I think I'll paint it, on the walls of my grave,
(when one day, death will cover my eyes)
because I love you, of course.

Well, good bye for today
and see you tomorrow
in another poem, you will never read.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 25, 2013

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