oFF keY
she sits for houRs sometimes
I sEE her...
she sTares blankly to space
how I feAr her...
she is keePer of nightmaRes
a Knower of dreams
she sits grubbY in
nightclothes composinG
new sCreams
her eyes have nO colour
they no longer know suN
When I feeL her drift by, I rise,
tRy to run, but
TheSe legs will not move and
a panic descenDs as she
GiftS me her work and I
cAnnot pretenD that I no
longer know hER for she
looks just liKe me and my
voice finds its pitcH in the
Opera of shE, and I'm rabbit in
headliGHt and dreAdful in
bLeak and my soul breakS to
glass and my heart cannoT
sPeak for the music is
soUlless completely oFF keY
and so wretchedly chiLLingly
utterly ......WE.....
M P 21/3/21
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Comments
❤️💙❤️
💜💜💜 big hugs x
Right back at you 🤗🤗🤗
Marion, loved it!
Loved the way your poem beats and flows to it's concluding surprise end and loved the line 'In the opera of she' among many more.💙
And a superb title that is mirrors your fine poem.
Five shining stars and pinned as well for another and deserved reread.
Thank you for writing and sharing your poetry gift and I wish you well.
Aw..so glad you like it Shaun...and thankyou for your lovely comment...means a lot X
hugs from me
Hugs back lovely man...thanks Greg 💕