Free At Last Poem by moon batchelder

with the coming of september i'm the one who cries alone
the world will tremble less once i move on
another day, another way to see it like a stone
just tumble down the hillside and be gone.

no asking 'did you love me? or was it all pretense? '
it seems to little matter in the end
you only caught me dreaming of forevers so intense
i didn't see love vanish 'round the bend

through silent dreams of yesterday i feel your presence still
forgotten drops of ink that stain the past
i can envision anything! there's magick in my will
like freedom from your hold on me at last.