and post notes and photos about your poem like Gregory R Barden.
Shredded by actuality.
There, on the cold cotton sheets,
Lay the discarded remnants of my pride ...
Torn into shameful shards and ragged strips of infidelity,
And hidden deep within the shadow of a broken heart ...
No draft of recompense would be worthy barter,
Nor apt or artful atonement ... not anymore.
I'd spied the cur's face, you see ...
The blackguard's gaze had found me upon escape,
And returned it, did I, with exacting ire.
Alas, had it the force of a bullet, (oh, haste!),
Naught but ruin would have stained those moments -
Those far-too-brief-but-endless caught-in-the-act moments.
Yet such looks are only messages, not weapons.
Besides, it was she with the bloody apron,
She who held the blade, firm ... steady,
Who drew its rusty edge across my heart, and thrust ...
He ... merely twisted it.
Written and submitted on August 20, 2019
For the "One In Four" Poetry Contest
Joseph May, Sponsor.
(Line chosen - "Within the shadow of a broken heart")
Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2019