Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2013
The words were all wrong.
I can't say.

The blur of the past
only focuses when
the throbbing pain
of realization thrusts
my mind into that
moment when you
crushed the cigarette ****
so completely.

The almost imperceptible
trembling
of your bottom lip.
As if to punish me you couldn't let me see your pain.
Written by
Theodore C Sherman  Albany
(Albany)   
378
   rained-on parade and marina
Please log in to view and add comments on poems