Tuesday, January 2, 2024

WHEN YOU ARE SAD

after William Butler Yeats

When you are sad and lost and full of pain,
and huddled in your bed, scroll through your phone,
and play a clip, and dream of the sweet song
your voice sang once, and of its sweet refrain;

How many loved your smart and measured style,
And loved your mind with a love wise or dumb, 
But someone loved your clownish heart of fun, 
and loved the strangeness of your honest smile.

And staring at the harsh and glowing screen,
Search, a little guilty, for the page
You know is locked, the past behind a cage,
and hidden by what's happened inbetween. 


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