The Hog

He tended grief
like a scented rose
it stung the eyeballs
Stung the nose
He trailed it like a faithful dog
He fed it as one would the hog
before the slaughter
came to pass, he only wanted
Now't to last
He sat alone with pints of ale
His head bent down
Denying sight
Here, I was young
And did not know,
Why this drunk man
should scare me so
Him needing death whilst
I was life
I had not yet, my own loved wife,
These days I tend my own new
rose
It stings my eyeballs
Stings my nose
I sit myself with pints of ale
Wanting nowt, cept breath to fail
M
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Comments
One still has a long way to go when you are young. Great Write.
Thanks so much J x
As per usual, emotion from me
Thanks R... deeply appreciated x
As always a mountain of emotions, especially the last stanza. 🌹 Beautiful poetry.
To be able to let it out and express pain with such clarity
is a real talent. Warm wishes my friend. B