A Reaping Tide
I did not curse the moments that lie twisted, misconstrued, and torn
I did not beat wearilessly all truth nor don lie upon lie and egos adorn
I did not scrape bare my soul to void the worth of every word
I did not in the face of ration spit wildly into wind the absurd
I did not buy with shallow deed to appease and to rape
I did not run into denials arms for some motherly escape
I did not cast treasure to soil beneath piling waste and rot
I did not turn coldly leaving love at deaths door caring not
I did not abandon to fantasies true warmth for empty lust
I did not let what was noble despair and fade to but dust
So let the wrenching of time come, come and cast aside
with the force of a reaping, with all the force of a reaping tide.
© Branna O’Dea
My poetry is published only here.I ask that if you choose to share my poetry on the internet you always link back to this page, and only do so for personal use.