December 20, 2012 § Leave a comment
If I make a name for myself then where
Are granite benefits for plastic weal?
Will fame take grey out, put brown in my hair?
A tangerine, once eaten, leaves but peel.
Why strive, why bleed, for favor that will fade
Amassing gold in others’ hands to fall?
Why keep pretending in this masquerade
That That won’t come for me as it does all?
For those whose names do leave a tiny mark
It’s written onto brain, not onto heart
Or else engraved on stones heaped vertical
And then it’s worn away, no trace, no soul
I’d rather my name melt into the sea
To hold eternally my secret: me.
© 08/2012, Joshua Owens