The Twentieth

Standing in the rain,
Dripping from head to toe.
Mourning for what I felt,
Just nineteen poems ago.

From belief to losing faith,
From flare to loss of flame.
From finding faults in you,
To ruling none to blame.

Tired of introspecting,
Asking how or why.
No the answers don’t surface,
After the clouds have left the sky.

From a diluted start,
To a scattered sleep.
Cheeks reveal my grief,
Yet there’s no time left to weep.

I wonder if it’s still love,
I will never really know.
Cause whatever it may have been,
It was nineteen poems ago.

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Nice used of numbers to make your point. I like the flow of thoughts leading to the very good ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Radhika]

Thank you very much! :)