He waits, each day repeated forever hoping
All pressed cotton and fathers aftershave
Crimson wrists match carnation’s hue
And wet cheeks like blood red roses blush
At mere thought yet thought alone can wrench
And heart in chest does twist and writhe
then shrivel scorned and turn to dark
until madness claims him for her own
And with malady and melody sweeps away to cold dark soil
And love young dream fades slowly to black until daybreak once more
This is so good!
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Thanks Dorinda. I’ve been enjoying trying my hand at this non rhyming poetry business
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Love this!!!
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thanks R!
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Sometimes free verse is much easier to write. It’s like jotting thoughts as opposed to making the thought rhyme. Keep going 🙂
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Will do 🙂
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