Do we blame the stars..
For aligning into
constellations?
Do we blame the elder gods..
For whispering their
silent revelations?
Do we blame the hourglass..
For all the sand
that trickled out?
Do we blame The Poet’s heart..
For loving blindly
beyond doubt?
Do we blame The Poet’s quill..
For scribbling words of love
all night and day?
Or do we blame The Poet..
For running out of
loving words
to say?