Category Sad Poetry
Fake.
Such a damning adjective.
And until now, I hadn’t realized
just how much it hurts.
What else would you have me do,
sweetheart?
All I’m doing
is trying,
buying time,
and avoiding awkward areas,
distressing situations.
You’ve got me rocking broken in the corner.
And you don’t even know.
Or seem to care.
Sitting on the other side of this fence…
Ode to a meadowlark
Ah, rising sun, kiss morning’s dew
Chill breath of night away thou chase
A sprite from trees there yonder flew
But why flies he away in haste?
As I through meadows lonely pace
Crimson orb, paint sky with red
On fields, again, new day doth break
Yet from love’s loss my heart has bled
And Sorrow, joy of life does take
As o’er these fields my way I make
And I have suffered now so long
