Poetry is dead
We’ve had a good life together, but all things end.
I know I couldn’t be, but I tried to be your friend.
All the thoughts that I had in my mixed up head,
They are yours to keep now. Poetry is dead.
Nothing left for you to criticize.
Watch me smile as you question my lies.
Give it time and the fire inside will die.
The light is fading, more and more, all the while.
Passion is gone, because love is a bore.
I believed more than you ever did, but no more.
The time has come, this love is done.
I can no longer run and catch the sun in my dirty hands anymore;
Because I am so bored and high flying birds do nothing but fall.
Standing before a ten foot brick wall,
With no will left to break through an imaginary door.
It does not exist, because I am not a kid;
I do not write it, so it does not exist.
I no longer open my mind to doors.
You walk through me like I used to matter, once.
Red light, stop sign, dead end view.
Words are done, give me a gun,
Are you sure this love is bullet proof?
What does a green and black cat in a dream mean?
I was at work at the electrical shop and all the while I was sleeping.
We were having a meeting and the cat sat on my lap
And while they talked and talked, the cat was suddenly gone,
And that was that…
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
- Author: Aa Harvey ( Offline)
- Published: October 11th, 2019 06:06
- Category: Sad
- Views: 40
- Users favorite of this poem: sylviasearcher
Comments1
Hmmmm...are you emotional or fed up...or just given up...some things are sent to test us and try us a lesson to learn ...🌹
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