Just gone…
Your tears ran down my back,
it tickled, I would have laughed
most times.
Why am I not laughing,
we shared something
now gone. Where does it go,
not to someone else,
is it just hung until
the next heartbreak.
Is this we speak of only for pain,
can anyone feel this.
Hope not, this hurts like hell,
worse than, well maybe
physically but I’m, no in time
thinking, mental hell.
Hope I don’t cry as so many songs
say I won’t it’s not my way.
Leave, but I’m wondering if,
for fuck sake move.
Ok feet, there’s the door,
this is hard, feel the way.
Open the door, at last
I think, god, I don’t believe
in him.
Bye, stop, move,
I’ll miss this.
Comments
Sorry, Roscoe
this is just a sad lost poem. It lacks the universality that makes real love poems.
It is a private poem, just for her.
Tell me how wrong I am.