Jan. 3, 1973
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Nothing
Nothing came to me again As I'd keep on writing verses But the stanzas became garbled You couldn't understand what I'd been saying I said it all again but no words Escaped my lips And you wouldn't understand Why I'd been carrying on I was giving lectures without no podium Yelling out at no one's crowd But I got to say it one more time Before it gets around They say we ain't got time "Maybe" is plastered all over the walls No one knows for sure why Least of all me But the people are all the same They can't hear me crying Or if they hear they only laugh And it's true she might be dying Months it has taken to write that word I won't believe it! Nobody else even cares I'll cry again some where else. No one can tell as I sit With pen in hand stationary Not one rhyme will come out I talk and the words come out all wrong.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
AllThingsMike