A Play On Words, It Means What It Means To You.

a poem by Keith Lumbard, UK

Though nothing shrive,
There’s much I must concede,
Read me with an open mind and fair,
Fragile are the sentiments I bleed and share.
For not a way erstwhile.
Was I mature or even sure?
I swear my only foe is time.
Has always been an uphill climb,
Unrealized, having walked the lowly path.
That finds me here behind the smile, behind the eyes,
That, which you don't see,
That you cannot touch you cannot feel.
Or possibly perceive,
I have soaked in blame and pain...
And then in shame, though fault not mine,
And so I show your need to see.
The very thing I strive to be,
A hand to hold an ear to lend a confident a caring friend,
Aware and fair and always there, even when I'm gone.
For that does please and more appease.
Dramatic though my words may seem,
Un-arranged upon this page,
They called to me, appeared to me,
And so I shared upon this stage.
For all to see.

Keith Lumbard 05th June 2011

A poem to decipher, not for the feint hearted

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