A Letter Left On The Bedside Table - Poem by Jeff Singh
I am buried here in the ground with you
With all these lost and lonely names
A mere diet for all the lovely little things
That will help my bones and body decay
These birds will sing no more to me
and happiness will soon cascade
what story they once told of you and I
I will start to chip and make fade away.
Your laughter should not linger here,
outside the graveyard of our youth.
Will you always come watch over me
and remind me of my sins?
How selfish can your truly be
to rob me of this peace of mind.
To force me down into this verse
cut out before the song beings.
Like sickness, you infect my brain
reminding of your face and voice.
You hum the melody of a dying day
that penned the words to our tragedy.
I feel the bastard son of love
and smile when your song is whispered,
but love, my love, my sweetest light,
your haunting here is my malady.
You stalk these nights I spend alone
and play these words and broken ties
until I have no choice but to let you in,
let you have this fragile shame.
And if, by chance of gods good will
my bed sheets are tossed at night,
you mask your face to trick my mind
and make me scream out your name.
I cannot help but share this life
with all the pretty things you hate.
Will you cast your shadow every time
I find another perch to call my own?
I loved you once, I called you mine!
Is this not enough to ease your rest?
When the cold comes, with you I will dance.
Until then, leave my card alone.
I will set no place for you at my table.
I will remove your face from the frames.
I do not want to turn my back on you
but this life needs life without the rain.
I will whisper my love into this plea
that, if once upon a time you cared,
you live only in my heart for now
and echo not to me again.
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