Evermore

4 Comments

Tags:
  • Lost Love

    Evermore

    You turn away, I stand alone in the rain,

    the sweet taste of your kiss so soon turns stale,

    even before the rain, your cheeks were soaked with tears,

    it must be the thought of all the wasted years.



    I hate to see you leave, but you need to go,

    before I regain my ability to speak,

    the words that I would have to say,

    would only make you glad to walk away.



    In all this,

    all I wish

    is that we could spend one moment,

    let's keep on,

    pretending,

    it's not ending, not now.



    My eyes evermore dry, I have no need for tears,

    yet my pain is visible in the falling rain,

    I’m drowning in the sorrows I should feel,

    because now I know that none of this was real.



    But still, in all this,

    all I wish

    is that we could spend one moment,

    let's keep on,

    pretending,

    it's not ending, not now.



    Now, I turn away but leave you a gift,

    you can keep the last part of me that's alive,

    my heart from my chest, on your front doorstep,

    to pass by, step over, use as a mat.

    The choice is yours, forevermore.

    Poem Comments

    (4)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    lois2lane245 commented on Evermore

    08-05-2009

    i have so been there as well not a perdy sight to prend to be with some one and to know they don't feel the same way u do it is and empty feeling great poem

    JEAGLEFEATHER commented on Evermore

    01-03-2009

    To be so young and yet so seasoned is unusual. Keep writing, read others works both for inspiration and for technique. When you reach my ripe old age, your art & craft will be awesome!

    PanamanianPoet commented on Evermore

    11-24-2008

    Great poem. I could feel the passion in it as I was reading it. Thanks for sharing it.

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    JDSitton’s Poems (20)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Absurd Metaphor by Artist Rigid with Pain 0
    What does it take to make you believe? 2
    This Year’s PostScript, Next Year’s Preamble 3
    untitled 2
    The Free Symphony 2
    Passion 1
    Growth 7
    Open 1
    Bride of Vanity 5
    Revelations Rise 2
    Requiem of a False Hope 4
    #214E 2
    Hello Goodnights 2
    Sitting on my Shoulder with Sharp Red Horns 5
    Why We Do What We Do 4
    Evermore 4
    The 7-11 on Love Blvd. 1
    Driving the Memories Away 2
    Taking the Dive 6
    Perfect Contradiction
    s
    21