The Durge

I hardly ever write sad poetry, but I have a few times in my life. I noticed a couple of years ago that all of my sad poems have the similar rhythmic device and all followed the same A B format.

There's a big black cloud over me today,
raining slower with time.
It's getting harder to find my way,
when there is no sun to shine.

There's a big black spot on my heart right now,
sprouting what I shouldn't sow.
It's little and dark a thousand pounds,
with a shadow as big as my soul.

Even the birds don't sing today,
and my soul has lost all rhyme.
It happens on a new moon, they say,
when she's lost her will to shine.

So light up another cigarette,
and help me sing sad songs.
I haven't a soul to sell just yet.
it's a sun that never dawns.

I promised myself I wouldn’t write today,
and I’ve lost my will to shine.
Some people yell, some cry, some pray,
but a few of us still rhyme.

And so my pen takes its own flight
a dour scribe, a fitting glove.
The words all soar, a lyrical kite!
All I wanted today was love.

Author's Note

Please ignore spelling. Any other comment will be met with open arms.
My portfolio can be found at asadowning.com