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A Lovely Night ...(long)
| Open Poetry #26 |
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A Lovely Night ...(long) |
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davidmerriman Member
since 2003-04-30
Posts 123Dallas, TX |
i would like to share an earlier work, no structure or set rhyme scheme, but still enjoyable to read out loud. A Lovely Night It was a lovely night, despite the fact That Tom was lonely, and knew nothing else, No love, no affection, no help. From women, he was ignored or couldn’t be lured; He wished he was somebody else. Lily was radiant, bursting with life, A face that could light up the light. She met Tom, handsome and bright. She fell in love that night. And as the stars above, shining bright, Guide a ship with their light. So did Lily’s shining face Brighten Tom’s dismal life. Tom soon felt Lily’s love, So, when Lily arranged another meeting At his front door, her smile bore Into his eyes like spotlights in the night. And in time, the two became closer, Confessing and feeling a mutual love, Like two coupled stars shinning bright. They would stare in each other’s eyes, And the glare from the light Would keep out of sight Any imperfections or faults. They loved without halt, Without pause or break. Each days Tom’s lips would ooze statements Of love and patience, no anger or hatred. Lily soon became attached to Tom’s kind words. His loving face and arms; in turn, He loved her with everything he had. Any word she would say would stay Engraved in his head to later replay. Any move she would make, He would tremble and shake. He craved her warm embrace. Her gorgeous face, her loving eyes, Would be an unnecessary reminder Of why he loves her, why he needs her. Amidst all the beautiful faces Of plastic and rubber, they would cover Ugliness concealed they refused to reveal. But Lily was real, breathing and soaking In his arms, nearly choking From tears of joy at the thought, That forever he would stay. He could tell he loved her When he hugged her. Listing the ways he could kiss her, Miles away, but in a picture frame He would often sit and miss her. And she would often sit and miss him. Him, Tom, the one she loved. The one she hugged when she went to sleep. Who rested in her mind when she tried to think. She couldn’t think, of anyone else. He was her laughter, her joy, herself. She was he and he was she. A part of each other, together fulfilled. And together were killed, on the very same night, After their first fight, from miscommunication. Tom thought Lily was after his friend Jason. He grew jealous and took for granted The greatest thing he had in his life. Instead of Lily becoming his wife, He fell into depression, fed by pills and drinks, Demons refusing to drown in the sink. His head too tight to think, so he got a knife, And sliced openings in his veins; a respite. The last pain drowning his sorrow, as he waited For death to hollow his racing mind. As it calmed, his determination Raced into fear, as death drew near. He was not prepared to die alone. So he grabbed the phone, as he lie dying, Trying to dial his love’s number. And when he finally reached her, Her sweet voice melted his anger. He wanted to live again, his depression over. Nearly sober, he confessed to Lily. However, he was losing blood and dreary. He tried to stop the bleeding and call for help But the throat soon clogged with his hurt. And no one could’ve heard his yelp. Where did he slay himself? Was it his wrists, or his neck? Or was it somebody else? Some horribly disfigured former self. A reject of Hell, unloved and in fury, In a hurry to stop his torment. He cried out, gagging on his own pain He cried to Lily again. Lily was horrified, hung up, phoned help. And raced over to his place. Arriving, seeing his carcass of a self Limped on the bed, as she kissed his face. Then raced to try to stop the blood. Anything to save her love. Her man, her true sweet Tom. As she wrapped cloth over his wounds. She frantically felt to see if he was alive. He must survive, she knew it. This was all too terrible to be true. And soon, the paramedics arrived. Whisked Tom away, and soon deprived Lily of her care, now she couldn’t bear Not seeing him there. Not knowing if he’ll ever speak again. Walk again, talking again A friend, a lover There will be never be another. That is why when the doctor said In kind, gentle words, That Tom lie dead. She demanded to see him. To tell him she loved him. More than anyone. More than the sun. More than all her lives, All her loves. All the sights she’s seen, If only they were taken away And everything became gray, except his face. She would be the luckiest woman alive Just to have a part in his life Even but just a mere taste. But now she will never be his wife Now she will be the one with the knife. Now her throat will choke with her very own blood Lily took her own life, on such a lovely night. |
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