The Hole to Fill

Days and days, and yet nothing has changed,
as time goes on, I let memories fade.
Of you, of her, and those who have left,
and soon I forget those memories depth.

The deeper the wound, the deeper the mood,
of despair or disgrace, disaster or doom.
How sorrow can hallow and make a man bleed,
having once had that which he knows he has need.

Having a heart that can ache is waiting to break,
the proverbial omelet and what it will make.
Here's how he became emotionally distant,
and why now to love he maintains his resistance.

Time heals the wounds that reason cannot,
the willful ignorance of what I've forgot.
But still I feel that hole to fill,
will be the only thing left that's real.



Poetry by Bonehead83
Read 176 times
Written on 2022-08-21 at 20:09

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