PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Shadows shifting down the walls again

They never drip just slip like wind

Never end just like they never began

And you sit there at the end of the bed

Your eyes are closed and your clothes are a muddle of red

Pink pasley petals I'm watching them tumble over again

You rest your cheek against the floor

The cold sun is folding laundry down the street

We are awake but not when we meet

I drag a smile across my lips

It was over before the window pane heated

And the pain was so, that we barely even noticed

It was just a bleeding in with the hotel room cacaphony

What a symphony

I'll lean over on the sheets

I know I'll weep, just as soon as you leave

What have I been drinking what have I

Been feeding to myself

I'll lie awake until the hurting stops

And the pounding of haunting in my brain

Oh how I wish it would rain in the city again

What a symphony