love, day, day,
by Valmiki Lutchmedial |
Yet again, the experience taunts me,
but a willing sacrifice, determined and well thought of.
Suitcases seem heavy, the clothes too much to wear,
and the pain I cannot bear.
Day after day, reminded of that day,
I wish that day never came.
Is it worth it?
Maybe, but my happiness lives in the heart of another.
At last that day has come,
sometimes, as the day leading up, words meander around unspoken thoughts.
Home at last,
I say, I am there and back again.
Honestly, what I know is wisdom,
Inseparable hearts, cohesive bodies and the softest lips I have ever kissed.
There can be no departure,
but this day it feels like that
by randy johnson |
husband, love, wife,
(This is a fictional poem)
It's 4 A.M. and I haven't had any sleep all night.
My wife and I had a big fight.
She slapped me and I slapped her back.
She got her suitcases and started to pack.
She went to stay with her mother.
I want her back because I still love her.
We said stuff to each other that was pretty mean.
But if she comes back, I'll treat her like a queen.
She's beautiful and she's stacked.
She's one classy lady and that's a fact.
by James McLain |
We were both undiagnosed with loneliness,
both of us, heavy of heart.
Alcohol was her best friend, it was easier that
way for the both of us.
I knocked on her door quite a lot and when she
opened I was never surprised.
That she would answer it in her panties, pink
and green were are favorite colors.
She had never married and hadn't any children,
having lived our lived in the south.
Sloppy we were waiting for dark, hiding the
truth from the light.
Life was for the woman down the hall waiting
waiting for love, both of us having heavy suitcases
filled full of issues that neither could let go.
Untill death showed up to pry us apart.