Passing

Why must it take so silently long,

for our long shadows to escape?

I’m growing tired of pretending

About the ghostly presence felt

Here in my arms, in my empty bed

No one understands my words

They act understanding at first

Where, where, can I- find peace

That replaces all she once gave me

How can I go, without any regrets

And shed- all the love she tainted

Who would want me now, broken?

Vulnerable to my inner needs

I’m just a child left in the dark

I’m just a man with a broken heart

Pretending that it no longer hurts

Pretending, I’m not pretending anymore

Love is a most wicked…mistress

Poet of the Light © 2020

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