i will groan from my heart
when the words will not come,
and share because i must
when the words will not come.
though seasons may change
and deep trouble sleep long
the tears will keep coming
when the words will not come.
so, I ponder my lovely predicament
amidst the rows of gathered lore
when grief steels my stiffened hand
and i put feet, shoes, upon this wooden floor.
I have one painful wish to share my wounded heart
in the room full of books that will never depart
like a library of life these feelings galore
must come in word form or come nevermore.
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