Poems from Hunter Mattocks
Do not cry, for to cry is weak,
And I’ll not ever be weak, not around you.
And hold your tongue, for words do rip,
And I’ll not ever rip at...
How strange it is to see you here, even after all these years?
Come, have you, to see me now, to see me lying in my cask?
Have you come to...
Who’s to say, in this world of gray,
What is right or wrong?
What’s right to some is wrong to me,
And what is right to me is wrong to you....
Tick! Tock!, goes the clock,
That seems its repeated refrain.
It never stops or ever fails,
And bores into my brain.
Click! Clack!, goes...
To love is to lie, and to lie is to love.
We love our lies, and lie to our love.
They are the same word.
They’re not different words at all...