It’s not the ones
who throw roses
on your grave
who realize your life didn’t die.
It’s the ones
you rode the roller-coaster with,
the ones you made love with.
it’s the children
who learned from you to laugh
exactly the way you do.
They are where your life went.
Joseph Pintauro Poems
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Rabbit Box - If
If
she had only two
weeks to live
she would look
you straight
in the eye
&
say,
"I have only
two weeks to live."
she knows life
is no great shakes.
she never clung
to it,
it clung to her.
she loved you.
she wasn't afraid.
when you were
cruel,
she lowered her
eyes till
you said something
nice.
when you lied,
she blushed a little
& looked out the
window.
she trusted you.
Knowing you were
not as good
as you seemed.
she was often bored.
always rightly so,
her silence had no
fear in it.
her silence
was right.
she expected
nothing
but craziness
from us all.
when we were
sweet
she liked us
when we landed
on the moon
she laughed,
when we
killed the earth
she just
smiled a little
&
died
with it.
she had only two
weeks to live
she would look
you straight
in the eye
&
say,
"I have only
two weeks to live."
she knows life
is no great shakes.
she never clung
to it,
it clung to her.
she loved you.
she wasn't afraid.
when you were
cruel,
she lowered her
eyes till
you said something
nice.
when you lied,
she blushed a little
& looked out the
window.
she trusted you.
Knowing you were
not as good
as you seemed.
she was often bored.
always rightly so,
her silence had no
fear in it.
her silence
was right.
she expected
nothing
but craziness
from us all.
when we were
sweet
she liked us
when we landed
on the moon
she laughed,
when we
killed the earth
she just
smiled a little
&
died
with it.
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