Too Early Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

It's 2am,
she's awake again
sitting on the sofa.
On the mantle shelf
a broken heart
close to the photo
of a wornout tart,

Don't worry
if she dies without you,
her mind will crack
before you leave,
it's coloured lights
will spread before you,
fading slowly
as they slowly bleed.

Some lonely thoughts
laying dead and dried
will blow away
with unseen breath,
to grow again
with light anew
as real as ever
goading death.


Waf