1971
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Meditations From the Dejected Individual
When young, I tasted sorrow.
I found I was not wanted.
I tried in vain to curb desire,
And wait for some bright morrow,
When I would feel devotion,
And my heart would feel the fire.
I sprouted into manhood,
But still, I felt dejection.
No one came upon my threshold,
No one spurred me to the mood
Of passion and of splendor,
But my hope could not yet fold.
Once I came upon a woman,
She was the fairest I had seen.
I tried to have her notice me.
It came to worse, and off I ran.
This couldn't be me
I had thought, but it was me.
My life became disconsolate
I became a moody soul.
Refusing earthly pleasures,
Nothing made me sate.
And while I sit, writing
I wait for brighter measures.
It seems, for fools like me,
Who ardor nothing, save their gloom.
Nothing can alter meagerness
Nor the life that seems so petty.
As long as we choose lonliness
Love will never find a nest.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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