Mark W. Poet Dramatic Monologue

Reflections of the Past, Visions of the Future

Tying the knot,
I thought sowed my soul.
Making me a better man,
But I discovered the lack.

Learning how to respect one another.
Loving another at the cost of loving myself.
Unrequited pain, a new form of loneliness.
The body exposing it through night terrors.

Ending with a big bang.
I rebirthed being alone.
In darkness He did his magic.
Cementing my non-negotiables.

Yet again I stand with another.
Uncomfortable comfortable.
Both of us with a checkered past.
Trepidation with hands on the wheel.

Wiser with a touch of grayscale.
A new kind of love we embark.
Both of us have probed for faults.
Scared of what seems perfection.

I stand with her having shaking hands.
And a fearful smile from my past.
I look over to see her response.
For once trepidation turns to tranquil.

She reads me like a book.
Caring where no one has before.
Nurturing my every wince.
The chips are landing perfectly.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

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

Crystol Woods April 15, 2025 at 5:40 AM "Wiser with a touch of grayscale. A new kind of love we embark. Both of us have probed for faults. Scared of what seems perfection." You have a way of Peeking into the human collective with true observations. Relating to one another forms unbreakable bonds! Xo Mark W. April 15, 2025 at 7:33 AM Thank you!

Daniel Henry Rodgers April 15, 2025 at 5:01 AM Hello Mark, Congrats on placing in my poetry contest. Your poem hit me right in the gut it is raw, honest, and so deeply human. I felt every tremor of hope and fear, every scar and new beginning. Fifth place doesn’t capture the courage it takes to write like this. Thank you for trusting us with your story. Keep writing, friend. Your words matter, and I’m grateful you shared them with me. Spring Blessings, My Friend, Daniel Mark W. April 15, 2025 at 7:37 AM Poetry is my therapy, always will be. Thank you!