For all the saddest words of tongue and pen,
the saddest is almost.
She almost left her agony of defeat.
She almost broke her walls.
She almost laid down her cards.
She almost found home.
She almost said yes.
They were almost there.
Tonight, she's almost sober.
The moon; the unparralleled witness
of what could have been a radiant tale of amour.
But like almost lovers,
he will forget the color of her eyes
and she will forget his.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
For all the saddest words of tongue and pen,
the saddest is almost.
She almost left her agony of defeat.
She almost broke her walls.
She almost laid down her cards.
She almost found home.
She almost said yes.
They were almost there.
Tonight, she's almost sober.
The moon; the unparralleled witness
of what could have been a radiant tale of amour.
But like almost lovers,
he will forget the color of her eyes
and she will forget his.
short poem
