Lot

I’ve often wished my spirit could be free to fly

unfettered by the chain of some lost memory

or by some present ghost not seen.

But since the stars in their courses seem determined

to play me the fool, then who am I to protest

against my lot.

If time could stand still and songs of guilt remain

a lost and tragic cord, then I would lift my voice

and shout I am free.

Published in: on May 15, 2009 at 7:06 pm Leave a Comment

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: http://tristanspoetry.wordpress.com/2009/05/15/lot-2/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Comment