The Bench

A no,

Is a no.

But do my eyes deceive my words?

Have they told the fool so?

To come and follow,

To sit and talk 

On the bench?

I sit on one side,

While the fool sits on the other.

And it feels as if

Oceans are held in the space between.

Seagulls linger in the whistling wind,

The sun swallowed by the glistening water,

A picturesque setting;

Will this be the place

Where it

All

Begins?

But could the fool not see

The swells of the raging waves ahead?

Or 

Could the fool only see 

The light,

From the halo of my 

Innocence?

Don’t be a fool by

Trying to swim,

To float,

Or to sail across the oceans- 

There is an inevitable storm in between. 

Oh you fool;

You will drown in the 

Delusion 

Of happiness,

Of love. 

Just stay where you are,

Safe and unbroken,

On the other side

Of

The bench.