Sometimes I wish

Who I was

Was not

What I did

Did never

And was also not

But that’s not right

To make it


I shift the story

Slightly skewed

The end is wrong

It doesn’t fit

It cannot ever end at all

I craft my tale

For a dark winter’s night

When nothing’s right

That‘s also wrong

She says she wishes

She was 18

I say 60

We only dream

She says 

Slight is slight

I say 

Dark is dark

And night is night

Neither’s right

Who we were

Is not who we are

Right now

Ken Ireland


Popular posts from this blog

Acquainted With The Night

White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field