And did those sorry feet bleed as you left.
Walking slowly.
Charismatic in their wake.
As oblivion so obvious calls.
Cherished dream of kindness died.
Not sorry nor sad.

A special kind.
Door closed locked tight.
Charitable ways disembowelled.
As vultures chew flesh from beautiful bones.
Discarded in sorrow's wake.
Pray not become forsaken.
For she shall not.

She will not wallow in lost dreams.
Woman will create anew.
Adam's apple choked him.
Drowned in saliva.
One long acidic flow.
Tongue twisted.
Virtually removed.

She wants no whisky nor no wine.
To live no more a silly lie.
Believing in nothing more or less.
Than wait and see.

When at seventy I reflect upon the love we felt.
The tragic wasted hands were dealt.
Without regret.
Be it alone or as one of two.
Poet man I shan't forget you!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)