Victoria Georgieva Poet Rhyme

Fair

I comb my hair in the chilly air,
and I curse the moon, 
and I curse them skies
that t'is not fair
That our paths do not meet 
that I was left astray,
That thy love for I 
turned cold with the days.

I tie my hair in the chilly air,
and I curse the sun, 
and I curse them skies
that t'is not fair
That thee walked away,
that I was left with no word,
That thy love for I
flew away with the birds.

Date: 01.12.2019
For Contest: "Your Best New Poem",
Sponsor: Emile Pinet

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Ann Foster December 3, 2019 at 11:09 AM turned cold... so true... there is love, or at least it feels that way... then cold... why... so sad... lovely poem. So well written. Ann Victoria Georgieva December 3, 2019 at 11:13 AM Thank you, dear Ann! I am happy you like it!:)