You're smooth salty skin;
I shed you when I grew.
Dear lost shell of my past,
distant embrace empty of me,
peel yourself back on
I'm small as I was.


The stars shine less than bright
when I lack your eyes to see them with;
my petals droop without your touch,
and I am alone.
I wander blindly through the night,
and wither under the chiming skies
dim with the despair of solitude.
I cannot last without your sight,
your way of cherishing this silence.
Our roots thirst in seperate gardens;
two lonely wild flowers,
we grow towards each others' light,
and all that shines shines twice as bright.


Symphony, you're a tickled clarinet--
or you flute if I conduct you to,
but I don't know the score.
Squeeze out those sweet strains before I forget
to cue a breath at each phrase on cue,
and demean your demeanor with demands.
I long to listen, but of music I've no more.
You: play on
as I drop my baton,
applause the only music in my hands.

29 Poems

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poem written by JASON PAUL FOX.
You MUST credit my authorship when reproducing this poem in any way!
Creative Commons License
Violators are prosecuted, no joke!
I'm living off the generosity of plagiarists now!
(It's OK to give my poem to friends or people at school, if you credit me and don't make money off it)

copyright 2007 Jason Paul Fox