December 2, 2008
Scritch, scratch, scritch
My pen scrawls away
Lines to sway
Your thoughts,
To change
Your mind,
To somehow realign
Our hearts,
To make you stay.

Yes, you were neglectful of
My open heart,
My deepest love.
You, my world,
My sun,
My snow;
Have caused me naught but deepest woe.

They warned me once that love is blind;
It wounds with an unbiased mind.
Though I’ve been bitten,
Spurned, and burned,
I cannot say that I have learned.

Scritch, scratch, scritch,
A dying twitch
Of bloodied fingers;
A last minute stitch.
Sitting here with hands stained black,
My last attempt
To bring you back.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback