Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2017
When we sat at our desks
heads hung low over papers
and computers, furiously
pouring out our wildest dreams
and deepest feelings into words.
For others to read
For the universe to fulfill.
We were poets

                             But when we stood up
                      and joined our loved ones
                      in daily conversations and
                          laughter, at dinners and.  
                          picnics and concerts
                    and enjoyed the adventures
                   of shared experiences
            and similarities and differences,
                      We became the poetry.

When we left the safe cocoon of
solitude to meet people and
make friends and fall in love
with souls with eyes we'd
never forget and bodies
we never knew we craved.
Pieces of us we didn't know
were missing but now couldn't
live without. We became poetry.

When we shakily dotted that final "I"
with wrinkled hands and laboured
up the stairs to lie down next
to our soul mates. Heads filled
with experiences and memories
of adventures, weddings, birthdays
lessons learnt and loved ones lost
passions fulfilled and legacies built

When we laid down in the arms
of our loves and watched the moments
play in our eyes one last time
and waited for the show to stop
and for the curtains to close
To take the final bow and close
our eyes for the last time
while our breaths
left our bodies and our loves wept
while looking down at the shell of what
we used to be.
Holding it in their arms.
There in that moment, my friend
We became the poetry.
Art imitates life imitates art
S C Netha
Written by
S C Netha  20/F/Zimbabwe
(20/F/Zimbabwe)   
  398
     Emma, pearlianne and Haze
Please log in to view and add comments on poems