Other Paths.

I was listening to a song on the radio and one of the lines caught my attention, and this stemmed from there.

 

Pain stalked the 

remembering:

 

yet far more does the

knife wound the mind

in closing my door

to you.

 

What’s left is breathing

low, an attempt at non

existence.

You’re walking the ways

my heart cannot

travel.

 

Your direction is against

the winds, I can follow

no longer.

 

But still you call

to me….

 

And follow

I must.

© sweetwater 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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Pronto

I loved this bitter/sweet poem Sue. Poignant has been used a couple of times, I know, but it is. Do they still give nibs? This deserves one..

Ross

I’ve read five poems now, and I feel better all of a sudden. Thanks for the lift.

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