Right, Again
Finally,
I conceded
he had left.
Left because we were right
left because our rites were wrong.
Finally,
my hope recedes
and rightly so,
he knew
after all,
I was left, and. . .
right about it all,
standing upright bold and tall
watching as he left
and right now,
left alone, but not reeling,
for the first time, I'm feeling
that to be left might be right
to see what of myself is left
for the right one left to come
to me
and I am happy to have been left
to have seen the warning signs:
STAY LEFT
Anything else IS WRONG.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 938 times
Written on 2007-01-16 at 02:09
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