a disaster
it was not her
he should have known
she had never seen him before
knew of no emile
thank you for the flowers
but I have to perform another set now
good luck finding your lady
no
she owned no red shoes
he knew as soon as she spoke
it could not be this one
the voice was not right
yet she looked so ...
he had been certain ...
so familiar ...
he must be going mad
pursuing a phantom
and for what
his life has become unrecognisable
a mess
his head aches
from the noise
of his thoughts
he has difficulty swallowing
through a lump that has formed
as though ready to
soiled
he feels somehow soiled
and cannot resist brushing
at imagined specks on his jacket
he must go home to wash
to think
this cannot go on
she was so familiar
he could have sworn ...
go home
stop being a fool
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: January 31st, 2018 01:10
- Comment from author about the poem: 11/18
- Category: Fable
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments3
Sometimes it is as if our brains are playing games with us! You captured it well!
Cheers Fred. Thank you.
Such an emotive piece of the saga Frank, I do hope he finds 'red shoes'.
A difficult journey for him.
Well written and expressed
Glad you enjoyed the piece, Tony.
Welcome
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