"Gone with the wind" (Lo que el viento se llevó)
Rhett, Rhett... Rhett, if you go, where shall I go? What shall I do?
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Enough of this.
I have had enough of repining,
Of loss and lament.
Enough.
I want to dance in the street.
I want laughter –
Loud days and wild nights.
I will make it up,
If I have toUntil it happens.
I will make it happen If I have to.
I have had enough of repenting
Of loss
And lament.
I wantDancing in the streets,
Laughter.
I will go into the fields
And under a white hawthorn tree
Dig a grave
Six foot deep.
Into it I will put
Regret and remorse.
I will cover it up,
Shovel the clay
And lay down my cross.
I have had enough
Of lament
And loss.
After allI wrote my own story,
Chose my course.
I brought myself
To this edge of the river.
Enough.
It is over; the sad times
the bleak.
Put behind me.
I have taken what I need –
The few things of value
Salvaged from the wreck.
I carry the in my flesh and blood
Until the last day.
Enough of loss and lament.
I want to dance in the street
I want laughter
Luminous mornings, long nights.
It is over,
Finished,
Remorse and lament
I have buried them, Turned the clay
Six foot deep, under
The white hawthorn tree.
This day
I have turned my back
On sorrow.
Mary Dorcey
NOT HERE FOR A LONG TIME, JUST HERE FOR A GOOD TIME !!!
You think you know me?
This Day I have Turned my Back on Sorrow.
Enough of this.
I have had enough of repining,
Of loss and lament.
Enough.
I want to dance in the street.
I want laughter –
Loud days and wild nights.
I will make it up,
If I have toUntil it happens.
I will make it happen If I have to.
I have had enough of repenting
Of loss
And lament.
I wantDancing in the streets,
Laughter.
I will go into the fields
And under a white hawthorn tree
Dig a grave
Six foot deep.
Into it I will put
Regret and remorse.
I will cover it up,
Shovel the clay
And lay down my cross.
I have had enough
Of lament
And loss.
After allI wrote my own story,
Chose my course.
I brought myself
To this edge of the river.
Enough.
It is over; the sad times
the bleak.
Put behind me.
I have taken what I need –
The few things of value
Salvaged from the wreck.
I carry the in my flesh and blood
Until the last day.
Enough of loss and lament.
I want to dance in the street
I want laughter
Luminous mornings, long nights.
It is over,
Finished,
Remorse and lament
I have buried them, Turned the clay
Six foot deep, under
The white hawthorn tree.
This day
I have turned my back
On sorrow.
Mary Dorcey
Oh no I didn"t!!...
- August 2008 (1)
- March 2008 (4)
- February 2008 (3)
- January 2008 (4)
- December 2007 (17)
- November 2007 (19)
- October 2007 (4)
- September 2007 (2)
- August 2007 (7)
- July 2007 (8)
- June 2007 (19)
- May 2007 (12)
- April 2007 (19)
- March 2007 (13)
- February 2007 (10)
- January 2007 (25)
- December 2006 (34)
- November 2006 (38)
- October 2006 (82)
- September 2006 (2)
Lucky number
No comments:
Post a Comment