Aftermath.
Living midst the debris of my former universeSenses numb, actions per functionary, motions slow
conversations for the most part, short, abrupt, terse
''I'll call you back, yes tomorrow, I got to go.''
Solitary existence now my new and sad frontier
No wish to seek a friend or start anew
Anger mixed with self pity now compose my lonely tear
As I face my barren bed of midnight blue
I feel within an emptiness hitherto to me unknown
A cowl of shame adorns my now bowed crown
Un requested tears accompany an involuntary moan
My once so happy countenance a frown.
I rise each morn from bed of blue to face another day
And wonder shall this torture ever end
This loneliness like whip that never ceases to me flay
As I with broken heart effortlessly blend.
Brendan.
.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 971 times
Written on 2006-03-09 at 13:38
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