Poem by R.M. Dolin, June 4, 2025
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Even if I could,
even if I wanted to,
I don't have a way
to explain any of this
to anyone,
including myself.
You, more than anyone
I know,
deserve peace
and happiness,
the grandest of all illusions.
It hurts seeing you suffer,
discarding things
of lesser value
you wish you could
still cherish,
discovering only after
deepening shadows
encroach their unyielding
viciousness that
cast out discards were always
necessarily needed,
always waiting to be wanted.
