I hope I'm more than a match for you
Burning your eyes enough to want more
Then gone to where you cannot find
I hope I'm more than a preserved memory
Too cold too touch until I burn your skin
Melting away maybe deep inside of you
I hear about all our failures inside my car
How many people sing about the same thing
We were so different but now we're common
I'm not asking anybody for anything
So why are you mad at my independence
Sometimes I only love sand as far as I can see
It soothes me because it's never temporary
Silently existing underneath our burning feet
So strong because you can never cross it
Even a rainy day or the summer sun ends
But not our souls or the ground we trod
Is it the same for you now as it was for me?
Mark Lecuona (author) from Austin, Texas on November 18, 2018:
Thank you for reading and commenting on my poem Peggy. I don't remember if I was listening to music or not but I bet I was because I listen to it all the time. It might have been a talk show rant or something but it might have been a Bob Dylan song.
Allen Ginsberg said, "America, why are your libraries full of tears?" So many poets, suffering over our world and yet nothing changes.
Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on October 25, 2018:
Your words "I hear about all our failures inside my car
How many people sing about the same thing" make me think that you were listening to music. Just about every subject has been addressed in one song or another. You put so much meaning into your poems.