Sad salutations,
Funerals that precede death,
Dashed expectations,
Warm moonlight glow
That vanishes in wintry cold.
Some friends depart
When their smile and laughter
Are appreciated most,
Some friends never arrive
And one can only imagine
The unique pleasure
Their presence would impart.
A dark-haired girl
Breaks my heart
As the music in the city
Fails to start,
But of course,
It is all my fault:
I’m a poet without the proper words
To calm anticipated fears
And instill a magical trust
In the compassionate harmony
Of a kind and considerate universe.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poet-without-proper-words/
