The DAY It died

political_opposites

And that’s the day It died.
Slow burn
Yearn
It was
Never strong
Long
it played
Real Hope
Scope
Was weak
Needed more
Door
Was closed
Smile dry
Why
I wondered
Grief inside
Tried
I did
Fancy shell
Hell
Unknown too
Reaching out
Pout
I mustered
Failed how
Cowed
I let go
Lingered still
Chill
It comes
What’s the point
Disjoint
It is
Matters yet
Fret
Continues
What is hidden
Forbidden
I won’t know
Left unmade
Paid
In full…
The Day it died.

Paula Antonello Moore, Poetry. Copyright: Wednesday, April 22, 2015

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