That's rather breathtakingly beautiful.
I love the trees how they reach for the skies
Fingers nesting into fingers praying prayers to another God
How wonderful it could be if you still were here by me
I love the thorns that break my skin make me bleed make me feel I'm still here
I'm still here
I love the birds who are silent til spring
Wings almost touching wings faith in their ability
to be near yet so far like the way that we are
I cannot touch you now even if ythat you touch my soul without even being here
anymore
I have told you everything I know you told be of the things you did
I laughed at your mishaps and I cherish the memories
I carry now
The branches grow through my soul and I'm breathless once again can't believe
what is here when you're gone that you're gone did I even say goodbye?
I am trapped on this earth as I wish but I'll miss you and everyday
everyday I think you're back
Just to see how myself I turned into this tree reaching for the skies reaching for you
'The last stand' they called it,
Their faith determined long ago.
The crooked smiles smoothly flowing
From faces that knew it was time to go.
Others would claim it a glorious sacrifice,
But they knew better, a mere survival device.
Their crowning achievement, their coronation,
A dozen brave brothers, drunk and in need of urination.
And poetry is not necessarily 'gay'. There is also a lot of sadness to regurgitating words in a plethora of ways.
As to knowing my gifts and talents, I'd rather be renown for my curses and stupidity.
Makes a whole entertaining world of a difference.