Our Love Turned Cold
OUR LOVE TURNED COLD
This fluff I pluck,
sew, trim and tuck.
I’m in a rush —
Now, man, do hush!
I’m tired and sick.
So stop it — quick!
Tell me you’ll miss
our time of bliss.
A fish you’ll catch —
our love won’t patch.
To doom your apt.
My mind is zapped.
I’d love to blush —
feel love’s red rush,
the hue of plum.
...I’ll gorge on rum!
O days your quest —
leaned on my breast…
Now, love, I race
to grab the mace.
Oh how we’d spoon
‘neath the blest moon,*
on the pink beach —
stars we can’t reach…
Missed days of sun,
ink from eyes run.
Long lines of prose.
Brrr..cold words froze.
Now we say bye.
Man, don’t you cry!
See, I’ve moved on.
This is no con.
2/1/2018
128 Words Contest
4 - 1 syllable words per line/32 lines
Sponsor: Silent One
*howmanysyllables.com listing this line as 3 syllables but it is 4
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