Dull Stood Sorry
Dull stood sorry then winked
Away his message to his mind.
He stood alone and took his
Hand across his battered chest,
Wondering if he or anyone
Could replace the loss he suffered.
The word had come mingling in
His jelly kind of mind.
He had not heard it –
Had not heard one syllable.
He crept kindly to his
Sorry soul and winked
At the candle by his elbow
Careful not to blow it out.
The flame flickered and leaped
At the ceiling tracing elongated
Shadows over his sad memories
As he looked down from the bridge
And wishes he was not dull
Or shattered in this fashion.
Copyright © Nigel Lesmoir-Gordon | Year Posted 2016
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