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The End
| Open Poetry #13 |
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The End |
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OLIAS Senior Member
since 2000-06-20
Posts 1090Pearl city Iowa 
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The End You came to the door, at my place, you just weren't the same, I reached out my hand to touch your face, you brushed my hand away. Accusations flew without reason, lock picks for premeditated freedom, When did lace promises become rusting chains, In desperation we made love anyway then wept on the brink of the chasm between us, And the dawn rose angry grey. Olias. |
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| © Copyright 2001 Mick Yates - All Rights Reserved | |||
Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
the pain. . . is evident here. . . one last gasp. . . excellent writing OLIAS. . . ---------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Cuddlez Member
since 1999-11-27
Posts 422Walla Walla, WA 99362 |
I am so sorry.... You described the last scene perfectly. Hope this pain heals and the "dawn rises bright and fresh" Time flies? Say it not so, time stays we go. |
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tradewind Member
since 2001-03-25
Posts 101 |
"when did lace promises become rusting chains" this line says it all to me... well worded writing |
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Panne415 Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 104San Antonio |
Olias, as said above - the pain is evident and I agree with tradewinds - that is the line that hurt the most - well said. Panne |
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forevernbluejeans Member
since 2001-04-05
Posts 76 |
What a sad way for it to end...but what a wonderfully written poem |
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