The Woman Was All

The woman was all he’d love
Hiding behind the darkened wall
She passes slow, unknowing
Of the emotions lurking
In a frenzied mass of trench coat and thin moustache

The woman was all he heard
When her laughter came over the garden wall
He becomes drunk with passion
Giddy of her smile, gluttonous of her laughs
He is so tired, so ashamed. He will not ask of her.

The woman married.
The man was shattered.

The woman was all he’d imagine
Blindly feeling of her voice
Molding a shape, a nose? A strand of hair?
He builds her in his mind.
To be his own, but she is too far gone. Out of his grasp.

I watched him sadly, my unbrella torn, taking in the rain.
He loved my wife so.

The woman drove him mad
His fits of rage, screaming desire
Shattering the mirrors where he could only
Wish to see himself
And see herself
She is dissapearing, slipping away
He is so hungry, ao thirsty, for her love

The woman was his sole demise
No one heard his anguished cries
This fragile man, this delicate soul
Broken porcelain shards
Of a deranged man

The woman saw the man. If ever he could see, he saw her.
During his final breath, she whispers “I’m sorry”

And gives

Todays best new poem was written by Jen Roxburg.


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