Wednesday, January 17, 2007


Running had always been an escape, and after hearing the news, I gave it all I had, maybe a little more.
Stopping after the pain became unbearable, I shuffled into the house like an aging prize-fighter, limping and beaten.
It was then that I realized, my true injuries lay in a deeper, more hurtful place.
My heart, once capable of inspiring others so completely, could no longer inspire so much as itself.

It beat now only out of habit.
It beat now only because it could.

Me---Wonder Boys

3 comments:

Wilna said...

Hi! I saw your comment on my blog. Are you talking about the links to the albums in my side bar?

I have a help blogger linked on my blog ("I want to help you blog") that explains that. Actual music i am not really into. You can run a google for music on blog...and see what comes up. Hope that helps.

A Margarita said...

Wow, a poet. That's beautiful. And sad. Running's my escape too. My sanity, if you will.

Try some S'mores and Margaritas. They always cheer me up ;)

Dennis Alan Gray said...

Thanks for the comment on my blog. I always try to make connections when I can. I like what I read here, the poetry is very good. Would love to hear the music. send me an mp3 of the demo when it's ready. I'd love to hear it.