Public Mourning
Oh
But how
It stings when
All of your strength
Must be poured into that space
Inside where heaving tears might spill
So that those pulling empty places
Are for a moment filled with grit
And sheer force of concrete will
As you face a flying world
With a wide dry smile
While in the corner
Of your eyes
Oh but how
It stings
-me
Painting: 1960’s Airport by Paul Mitchell
sometimesihatemycat 