The yearning and
Every tender throb And gentle ache
That embodied you,
Has vanished into the gloomy void.
Now, at night, you arrive
Unsmilingly, to rest with me
A lifeless, frigid weapon
Upon my feverish, pulsating essence.
Categories:
unsmilingly, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse
Why Argue
by Bob Moore
Women have to have the last word, I guess that they all do
it’s a cross that all men bear, each day, to just get through
It’s in a woman’s nature, to argue to the end
even if she knows she’s wrong, her answer, she’ll defend
She’ll never let an argument, die by natural causes
she tries to keep it going, without any pauses
and somehow she’ll remind you, of everything you’ve said
from the day that you first met, it’s all filed in her head
She’ll lead you on into a trap, and then she’ll snap it shut
“but I remember when you said”, a tightness in the gut
you know she has the where and when, right there on her tongue
and too late, once again, you know, that you have it wrong
I thought I’d found the answer, to getting the last word
by simply saying ”yes dear”, should have known that was absurd
she just looked me in the eye, and unsmilingly she said
you’ll never have the last word, so get that through your head
Categories:
unsmilingly, anger,
Form: Rhyme