I wrote a hundred poems
Trying hard to say
What was in my heart
Left o'er from yesterday.
Dwelling on her absence
Each and every way,
I thought love my lonely muse
But no, t'was misery.
-
Author:
Jabberwocky (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2026 11:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Kevin Hulme, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
I have many muses love, misery, fear, anger, each emotion is one. Nicely done
I'm kinda stuck with misery and occasional whimsy. I'm more cheery in real life. Thanks Soren.😁
You are very welcome
A fine Poem and a fave 👍
Hello, Jabberwocky,
A very well composed poem. Our muses have many moods or perhaps our moods have many muses, that said, I enjoyed this poem, especially so, the use of language, a hint of quaintness found me.
Kind regards,
Tony.
Jabberwocky, yep…that realization stings. Sometimes what keeps us writing is not love itself but the hurt left behind after it. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.