I sit here by the sunset
With memories by the score
Of the love I gave but never got
But I gave my all
Much more than I've got
Still I end up folorn
O daughters of Eve
Offsprings of the garden love
You who worm into our core
Partake of our store
Fly off by the light of dawn
And leave our heart with a bore
Perhaps there's nought like love
Perhaps tis a tool, vamps for
-I hesitate to say whore
Oh! Spare me the gore
And with a gun just rob
Than spin me mushy folklore
That hurts the more
When you leave us null
Dour, sour
And of heart poor.
(something from the archives)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Poor heart. This is touching.
ReplyDeleteIs that what you really think from your sum experiences with woman? I find it hard to believe that they were all like that? You said it's from your archives but I wonder what made you dust off this particular poem and post it?
ReplyDeletelol
ReplyDeleteThanks Myne
Caramel Dear,
I posted it for the love of poetry (mainly).
Sure I still feel like that...sometime...but largely and by and large...I'm almost a new man.
:p
Ummmm. I'm still struggling to get this.
ReplyDeleteNot a hughe poetry buff.
I await a response from you...still.
ReplyDelete@mimi,
ReplyDeletewhats there not to get?
@badder,
...Check ya inbox
:p