Thank You

Here's a poem dedicated to someone he loved, once, and sought to praise with his words and works.

Thank You

it is not what I thought that was caught in the time
between words, still unheard, the absurd now made crime.
for I knew that in you what was true was still sure
and you stood for the good and you could burn me pure.
so I went and I bent the intent that was real
and I fell out the shell the unwell had me seal.
and on point, you anoint disappointment unkept,
for you've shown how you've grown and disowned mem'ries wept.
in this place no disgrace can erase these few lines...
for in light, with delight, what is right shines and shines.


William F. Devault. all rights reserved.