Torn

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  • Lost Love

    Torn

    An angelic cloth
    White and flowing
    covered me down the isle
    I looked at you and saw you smile
    I joined you
    We became one
    But time passed
    and the love you had did not last
    The dream became a nightmare
    A prison I could not escape
    The cloth now torn
    Lay in a heap
    stained with blood
    What once was white
    now looks more like rust
    and now like us
    it will blow away just like dust

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    sheppaja’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Last Place You Look 0
    Pen and Paper 0
    Time and Distance 1
    Monster in the Closet 0
    Broken and Torn 0
    I am 1
    Torn 0
    Dear Mother 1