My115thDream

Dave's Mental Meanderings
2003-07-31 18:49:53 (UTC)

Poem - "Little to Offer"

With a foot on the platform and one on the train,
I’m headed somewhere between glory and pain.
Under many a moon have I made up my mind,
Only to have something sneak up from behind,
Something that startles or something that jerks,
Something that whispers in the dark where it lurks,
Something that warns me and raises alerts,
It may just be nothing but something still hurts.
There’s a voice that beckons to slip through the cracks,
But as soon as I’m there another voice calls me back.
This type of transition is tough to attempt,
And it leaves me dirty, roughed-up and unkempt.
When your path met mine, such a state was I in,
Having just swallowed down my last jar full of gin.
Far from the fools who foresee and forsake,
The morning groaned on with nothing at stake.
But then something disturbed the silent gray scene,
Like a boot in the gears of a grinding machine.
You said hello after catching my eye,
A few cigarettes and a friendly goodbye,
No magic in the air nor love at first sight,
No beautiful dreams to haunt me at night,
Just a smile on a day that was otherwise dark,
A door where I never would have thought to embark,
An unforgettable face that finds no façade
To disguise the intentions of an all-knowing nod.
With what was this greeting so innocent met?
If you asked me right now I couldn’t tell you just yet.
Not a kiss on the lips to fill in the blanks,
Perhaps just a grin of unspoken thanks,
A few whispered words under cover of dark,
A stroll through the city and a pass through the park,
A hand to hold onto if you’re ever in need,
A pacifist poet who won’t beckon or plead.
You’ve not much to gain by taking my hand,
I’ve got little to offer but I’ll give what I can.