Madame
She was often better
but never good
Her virtue tainted
misunderstood
Her nights a mystery
each day in shame
The rumors spreading
each one to blame
The men who knew her
that man who left
Impassioned bookends
of time bereft
She was often better
yet often worse
Each day repeating
—tomorrow’s curse
(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment