Poetry from the Heart
I found his letter the other day
worn, wrinkled and in utter display.
It’s puzzling why he didn’t give it to me
was he undecided and wanted to be free?
There wasn’t a date or a sign of when wrote
did he just forget it in his sports coat?
I’ll never know why he walked away
disappeared in a world to my dismay.
What happened to a commitment of love
assurance it came from heaven above?
It’s a passion calming his heart and soul
to linger until the golden age of growing old.
My heart aches and my soul is sad
what did I do…it must have been bad?
A dark cloud follows me nearby all day
blocks out any light not even a ray.
The bird’s songs sound dull and dim
contains no rapture to aid a mend.
I found his letter the other day
worn, wrinkled and in utter display.
It’s a puzzle for me to figure out
nurse bruises and a frowned pout.
Time passes nurturing my wounds
as I scrape scabs aspiring to bloom.
I found his letter the other day…
Barbara Kasey Smith wrote this poem – Copyright 2014 – Use by Permission Only.