Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 36728
Posted: August 23rd. 2009 12:07:57 PM
Echos memories of the event
Age Group: Adult
Here I sit pining away. Day
Days have passed by. I
I remember the first time we met. Yet
Yet sometimes I cannot remember his face. Trace
Tracing the outline of my own shadow on the wall. All
All I can remember is that he was kind natured and softly spoken. Woken
Woken from my reverie by a passing train. Again
Again I find myself sitting here alone.
Hours of sadness pass by. Why
Why do I still love him as much as on that first day? May
Maybe because now Iam only his reflection in the mirror upon the wall. All
Always rising and falling in the memory of his changing moods.
I remember how we would sit together in the bar. Are
"Are you happy today?", he would ask. Mask
Masking his own sorrows from me. We
We would sit there, each with a glass of beer. Here
"Here", he would say, and hand me half of his cigarette to smoke. Joke
Joking all the time whilst I struggled within my minds grey asylum aginst the desire to just pull him towards me and kiss him.
In the afternoons we walked together through markets where bowls smelt of exotic fruits and vases smelt of flowers. Hours
Hours spent feeding eagerly and contentedly on just a mouthful of his words knowing that at least that day we saw beautiful things together. Whether
Whether or not I would look down at my hands and see fingers stretched and sobbing for help
One day as I sat beside him the voices of the crowd melted into the air. There
There was a sudden silence between us and my desire for him grew so fierce that I dug my nails into the palm of my hand. And
And I told him how he made me feel but then smiled from cowardice. Just this
Just this single phrase condemned me to eternal solitude
I sat next to him, feeling naked in the silence that was growing ever longer. Hunger
Hungering for something as simple and terrible as a yes or no. Though
Though when he finally did speak again it was only to ask whether I wanted another drink. Think
Thinking that he was laughing my head was set to spinning and my hand searched to cover up the blush that was certainly upon my face. Force
Forcing myself to smile I looked up again to find him smiling at his own reflection in the mirror. Wither
Withering in that pause as mute as the grave, I finally gained enough strength to just stand up and get away. Away
Author's Notes: Yes I have heard of Fred Chappell
Author's Location: brussels, Belgium
More Poems: Drewann has posted 11 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Drewann - Click HERE
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