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Nov 2013
His hatred hangs like a hook
Though crooked, he is never right
They say, it seems to swing that way
That’s how it is each and every day

He cannot look to the shadowed
He cannot bear to share his light
His widowed consort can only stare

Onwards through his harrowing
Silence bearing then, his screaming
Never caring, broken curses bearing

What can be done to heal those?
Locked, heart beating deep in shock
Trapped into cavernous corners
Crying like corrupted cavalry
Over love long lost and choked
To the coldest point and having broke

He will not consider those, no
Only slither to the shivering throat
Of the widowed ones’ lost love
Reciting hopeless jokes over and over
‘Cracked are those who confine
themselves to corners’

But when it comes to him, in sudden shock
When the pain of his coveting stands in the way
He will understand, on that depressing dark day
The pain he has made the lost love
That he so shamefully craved
On that dark day,
When silence breaks…
Culpoetry
Written by
Culpoetry  Britain
(Britain)   
782
     Culpoetry, ---, --- and Isabella Pullivan
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