A Stance, No More Poem by Piccola Topo Gigio
A Stance, No More
Curious, how my love died.
When before, full of life,
Ahead of me, it played and pried,
Dreaming, a future hive.
It thought, it assumed.
Good things, I think it presumed.
....
Instead, lonely it suddenly had to dwell,
Drowning in an ambiguous swell.
Then slowly mute, numbed,
Quietly, it suddenly succumbed.
Friday, July 13, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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4/30/2024 12:27:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
