Stalwart, unwavering.
A steady motion, wandering.
Drift in dreams, monuments.
A monologue no one can hear.
The bard in seclusion, tranquil.
Words are weaved, constantly.
Absence is absence, indeed.
But he knows how to breathe.
The road, the space, the rain;
The world is meandering.
A man can speak tactlessly, graceless.
But you should accord respect.
You should learn by heart, endlessly.
For you are measured through your words.




About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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