Waiting...

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  • Lost Love

    Waiting...

    Waiting…
    By: Poetic_Muse

    As I retire upstairs after a long day with the kids I brought in this world
    with a man who no longer lives in this world,
    I pant, from the weight of each child, one on my left hip and the other draped
    across my right shoulder,
    I try to keep my mind young
    But, can tell, my body’s getting older,
    I begin to reminisce,
    about how his eyes stared into mine, about his touch and his wet kiss..
    And as I lay one child on the right side and the other on the left side of the bed,
    the smell of his cologne swells up in my head
    and I can feel him…waiting..

    I turn to take the trip down the never-ending hallway
    funny, because earlier that day
    the trip seemed to be ok,
    But now, I can hear every step that I make,
    toward the bedroom we use to occupy
    remembering the sex-a-licious smell we would create…
    1…..2…..3….4
    are the patterns of my feet as they near closer to the door,
    my heart thumping the tune of what use to be our song,
    and my lips form the words, as if to sing along…

    “You are my lady, you’re everything I need……and more”

    but if that were the case, why was he found dead in a place
    that I never new existed,
    knife twisted in his heart,
    the heart that he supposedly gave to me,
    but he refused to leave the street and so the street set him free…

    “You are my lady….you’re all I’m living for..”

    I enter into the room and I feel the heat of his silhouette,
    I can literally….feel….his silhouette!
    I know that it’s him cause he’s something I will never forget,
    The presence is so strong and I long to embrace his masculinity,
    But spirits can’t make love, so I’m left just feeling empty…
    and as quick as he came, he’s gone again….
    and this burst of pain….i feel…so unreal just leaves me hating…
    Until the next time, my love shall come…
    I will be here…..waiting…

    Poetic_muse.

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    kdarcy commented on Waiting...

    04-13-2009

    A second read on this one for sure, life is real thats for sure. Good imagery in places ... its a keeper, thanks for sharing

    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    PoeticMuse’s Poems (7)

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