{For the
Commons Folks,
from a
common folk:
full of cheese,
would you please consider
this one of
many thoughts
amoung
countless
scattered others
that attempts to express
the significance of
the roles you each have
played
in my life.
So excited that this isn't over yet -
screw the lactose,
here's some -
love fo lyfe homes,
- C}
In the way that poetry says nothing,
I speak to you without words.
In this way
is how I say,
this is what you mean to me.
In the way that words cannot cage the spirit,
and the ways the light shines in the dark;
in the way that art is more than substance,
this is what you mean to me.
In the way that gratitude does not suffice;
and the ways that we are enough when we fail;
In the way that a chapter's end is anothers begin,
this is what you mean to me.
In the way that language lacks,
and beauty is in brokenness -
in the way that poetry says nothing -
this,
this
is what you mean to me.
