The gifted have told us for years that they want to be loved
For what they are, that they, in whatever fullness is theirs,
Are perishable in twilight, just like us. So they work all night
...
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Fantastic Poem.. The gifted have told us for years that they want to be loved For what they are, that they, in whatever fullness is theirs, Are perishable in twilight, just like us.
But mainly they sit, hunched in the dark, feet on the floor, Hands on the table, shirts with a bloodstain over the heart. a poem on a reality.. and the facts.. tony