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The bed she lays

It took you days
Death shadows over the bed she lays
Crass words jotted on a spiteful page
And nothing beautiful in sight

The way she played
The way her hair blew with grace
The way no one got in the way
The day that beauty died

The sheets were stained
A cold hand gripping the pen of destain
And you couldn't find a wife

The arms of another
Pirouetting one of your fretful brothers
Lining the halls are all of your mother
She was never there
Ones Hollywood delight

And murder she wrote
With the pencil of fear
This may be may
But nothing for you my dear
And nothing touchingly bright

Something off
Out of sight
Something set someone else alight
The cigar smoke that forms the kite
Blows half the winds away

A book of lies
Lays on her shelf
A knife in one hand
Belted out she felt
Nine months of poison
Scattered on the bloom of hate
No one could dare berate
No one could move
Suddenly crude
Nothing I could say
I loved you Janne


....
Love,
Speedway





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Emilyanne said...
today at 3:06 pm
This poem is incredible I'm touched! You can really tell the author is writing from the heart about things personal to him just... wow
 
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