Break-up poems are to poetry
as pop music is to music.
The same four chords,
the same four words:
I'll never love again.

Old friends, dead friends,
all lined up like porcelain dolls,
smiling behind ***** glass.
I wrap them in paper and lament.

When an egotist tosses money,
scattering it at your feet,
never stoop to collect it,
no matter how poor you may be.

You whispered my name.
It carried with wind
and made it to my ear,
to my pillow was pinned.

Evenings forsaken
most nights I'm alone,
dragging my feet like
I'm tied to a stone.

Where have you been, love?
The knife turns and twists.
I long to discover
that you still exist.

I watched you breathing,
your chest rise and fall.
These moments I'll cherish,
but I can't live them all.

We made a life of
both laughter and tears.
But the sun's finally shining,
the rain's starting to clear.

Another new year.
Whoop-de-do!
If I could, I'd blow
a big kazoo.
Yes, this year is over,
celebrate with your lover.
For me, it's just deja vu.