It was not enough that you hurt my soul,
Your unfeelingness broke my heart;
Words like a thousand swords leave me broken.
You hide behind a mask of sweetness.
Your true "self" I can now see.
____________________________
July 13, 2015
Verse, unrhymed
Rest does not come easy upon this muggy unseasonably warm night
Eyes fixed as if seeing some other world, not the present
Life ordinary yet blank from pleasure, real sadness would be preferred to this unfeelingness
Depression's grip unforgiving, unrelenting
Prisoner though never executed, no trial of guilt
Sentenced to death, at some undisclosed future day, laughingly disregarded in this home,
Hopeless to become alive again. No chance of an appeal to a higher authority. Acceptance
Of this fate, today would be merciful, but in my soul there is hope. Hope of a glance and a
Chance for reconciliation of the former life less ordinary, productive. Regaled as worthy to
Breathe and feel the sun upon the pale freckled flesh, among the livelier folk, who know what
To do with a life, given freely, easily, no choice of the said life. As if magically we breathe,
And it is life, no instructions and no guarantees.
Tomorrow may see more clearly, the road set before, the haze removed before these eyes
Tonight though is heavy in past regrets and guilt, somber is my road
Tomorrow should be merry and playful?
Tomorrow...
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.