Very rough draft of a poem-wrote in ten minutes...Any thoughts?
Edit Numero Uno!
When I was young
I felt isolated
Because I understood
Why the plants depart
In winter
And return again
When the world weeps
My mother
Never reads the paper
Life is busy enough
She says
The headlines
Are too callous
For her to carry
Sometimes in summer
A wasp
Catches in my window
A glimmer of reverie
Stuck in the wire
She understands
This is her fate
And waits for the cold
We are all blinded
By the internal machine
Named vanity
Our path is singular
Without enough room
For regrets
We are alone
