#hasnt
This is not the person you once knew,
my face is dried and thin.
I haven't got the faintest clue,
how the picture remains,
nor who,
why,
or when.
I only recall some old 'honey' song
And how every line would begin,
"I love, love, love you."
As if to not speak of love was a sin.
I no longer know what to say or do,
struggling to remorse here once again.
It hasn't been very long,
but I feel I have forgotten the feel of your skin.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
I cannot help
But feel the feeling
That our trains have passed
In the dead of night
One before the other
Ever so slight
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
Poetry
Hasn't
Poetry hasn't seen me since, I can't even recall when.
Its been wondering when, I'll pick up pad and pen.
It has six
ways it can fix.
Poetry has broken tears.
Emotions held back for years.
Poetry has many funny bones.
It just needs a poet to laugh with it On and On.
Oh poetry
It's been hiding holding back its delivery.
Hearty Poetic Bone.
Poetic Highs and it's lows.
It's been hiding it's hidden sorrows.
Without a Poet no one would see out side of the window.
No birds would go where others simply will not follow.
Knowing the secrets of conceived mysteries that flows.
Telling stories of what I see of poetic pearls.
Gifting words filled with verbs.
Poetry tickles. Lifting all that's fickle.
Poetry wants us to come back.
Writing soulful lyrics mostly telling facts.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC