PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Why would you do this?

You sweet, simple man.



A leaving of sorts, he is gone.



A finality of hearts,

You go, you go,

Quietude, solitude,

Destitute.



In the end we all find solace,

We all find the loneliness of beauty.

In the end he leaves my bed,

In the end he leaves my soul.



Cut me to the core,

I am the child of your inability,

Your ineptitude,

I am the child of everything you never wanted.

I am the leftovers of your nothingness.



Emptiness.



Abyss.



Separation.



It is the delicate farmhouse in your soul

That reaps no harvest.

Farewell,

Goodbye.



See you in the spring.