What Do The Poets Know Anyway?

I am here,
but you will not see me.
You cannot come here anymore.
You cannot see me anymore.
You took your large wooden mallet,
and destroyed the structure,
the life of it all.
You broke my heart.
The Shekhinah,
shattered into a million pieces,
no longer the same joy.
When I see you it still hurts.
I still miss you,
but no, given the variables,
                                            no other outcome could take place.
                                            How could it?
                                            You determined our fate.
                                            A ghost sits at a table,
                                           and watches the people walk by,
                                           and wonders what is life like today.
                                           What the hell do poets know anyway?               
                                            I am still here. 

                                           
© JACM 6 June 2009

Song For The Asking
Simon and Garfunkel

Here is my song for the asking
Ask me and I will play
So sweetly, I'll make you smile

This is my tune for the taking
Take it, don't turn away
I've been waiting all my life

Thinking it over, I've been sad
Thinking it over, I'd be more than glad
To change my ways for the asking

Ask me and I will play
All the love that I hold inside

(I hope the video works ok, my computer is especially slow today.)