I’ve been wanting to read a poem all day. I’m at work and it’s getting towards the end of the day. It’s mid-week and I’m tired. I looked into the Drafts menu of this WordPress blogging thing and viola! found this Gwendolyn Brooks poem. Reading it makes me feel better and I hope that you like it too!
my dreams, my works must wait till after hell
I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.
I am very hungry. I am incomplete.
And none can tell when I may dine again.
No man can give me any word but Wait,
The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in;
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume
On such legs as are left me, in such heart
As I can manage, remember to go home,
My taste will not have turned insensitive
To honey and bread old purity could love.
– by Gwendolyn Brooks