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No Music

I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood
It's harder to leave, than to be left:
To stay, to leave, both sting wrong.

You will always have me to blame,
Can dream we might have sailed on;
From absence's rib, a warm fiction.

To tear up old love by the roots,
To trample on past affections:
There is no music for so harsh a song.

Anonymous submission.

John Montague

Read poems about / on: music, truth, song, dream, love

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David Zvekic (2/22/2006 11:01:00 PM)
Some original motifs here. I liked them.

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7/20/2008 4:27:19 AM. You Are Here: No Music by John Montague