The hour is ticking
The moon in a mist
Got to keep asking
Where’s the moonlight tryst?
Trim the stem
You’re not here
Am I condemned?
Feeling’s so queer
I miss you dearly
My head is spinning
I beg of thee
Please don’t fling
Can’t get over it
As I look at your prints
I’m turning half-wit
Give me a hint
I cringe from memories
I can’t lift my spirit
How can I be appeased?
When I run in circuit
Living without you
I’ve had my chips
My life is through
Can’t come to grips
(c) ladyleemanila 2016
For: Writing Prompt #173 “Collage 28” and Wordle 262 Aug 21 by Brenda Warren
It takes time to come to grips with a parting. ‘Cringing at memories’ was a telling line implying a fault in the narrator. Admitting this will help him/her to get over it…they will see. A good rhythm was there when reading this piece.
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thanks, Oldegg 🙂 enjoy your Sunday!
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What a poignant piece – I imagined someone cutting the stems off flowers wondering where her beloved went
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thanks, Jae Rose 🙂 Happy Sunday!
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Been there, done that, never want to do it again. An excellent portrait of being on the receiving end of a relationship gone bad.
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thanks, Cara 🙂 never want to do it again!
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I like the terse style and use of rhyme in telling this tale of loss.
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thanks and have a nice week! 🙂
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Great poem. Fits your prompts well.
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cheers, Mandi 🙂
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A jolly meter for a very sobering poem.
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thanks, Misky 🙂
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