Talking to myself through poetry
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How can a heart forgive the mark
Permanently, engraved for gaze?
Each time I see her photographs
Hanging behind walls of my heart
Retrospect plays the note she left:
‘I appreciate your sweet kindness
But these my legs just have to run
To better place, sands and easy plans…
Forgive me, I have cracked the shells
Of Morrow’s egg, for I am dead with you.’
I followed flying butterflies as I craved But they landed me deep into a grave I bled right on the floor not just the pain…
Used to think a lot More of lust, no fault A big bum, big breast Pretty face, white teeth… Yet, one met no one Wired…
A special thank you to all philanthropists From east to west and north to south; Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly In…
The alleviated pains from cradle to this very day Has been a bundle of joy, a perfect gift I must say How fast the hand…
Great lines and running idea, love it:
‘Retrospect plays the note she left:
…
Forgive me, I have cracked the shells
Of Morrow’s egg….’
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Hehehehehe… Thank you a million, SoundFlyer
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The imagery used is very poignant. “Walls of my heart” makes me think of the poet putting up barriers so that later he will not be hurt again. “The notes she left” effectively establishes a haunting sadness. She is still there in the poet’s heart, although he does move on.
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And you interpreted well as if you were the poet himself… Poetry is so beautiful. Thank you Jenny Grace
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