It must have been midday,
when we almost met that day.
You shouted,I think, "Fear not the Fall",
while I was busy walking down the corridor.
It must have been midnight,
when we almost said Goodbye.
You whispered,I think,"Fear not the Dark",
while I was busy listening to Bach.
It must have been midsummer,
when things almost never seem to matter.
You sang,I think,"Fear not the pain",
while I was busy exposing my skeletal remains.
I have always been saddened by the words you say.
Mindless,Meaningless,Dispiriting Tales. Almost....
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Author:
lysistrata (
Offline) - Published: June 5th, 2016 03:43
- Comment from author about the poem: Love and Loss are almost never simple.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 40
Offline)
Comments2
THANKS LYSIS - for another very enigmatic poem and thanks for your comment which "almost" explains it. I love th nuances in your beautifully structured poem. I "almost" met the Love of my Life on a London Tube Escalator ! Alas she was in the ascendancy and as usual I was descending. Thanks for sharing - lovely ! Yours BRIAN
I "almost" met the love of my life at the airport.
He was getting on an aeroplane....🌎
Your poem begins with three promising stanzas and ends by leaving us hanging in the fourth. But I guess that's the whole point of "Almost", huh? More questions than answers. Thought provoking. This piece reminds me of the old saying "The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions"
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