Our Favourite Song Poem by London Love Poems
Our Favourite Song
Yet another year has gone.
Has it really
been that long?
I think to myself
as I place the needle
on our favourite song.
We used to dance
and I'd hear your laugh
as we enjoyed
the company.
I sit and listen now
feeling lonely.
I still make you
a coffee with mine
I do it all the time.
I can't accept
that you've gone, it
hurts so much to do.
I picture you here
as I play our favourite
song.
Your red heels
with the matching dress
still in the place
you left them.
Never lucky enough
was I to see
you wear them.
The lord
called you, as he
needed you.
The angel
I always knew.
Sleeping
is impossible, but
I still say
goodnight to you.
With tears in my eyes
not being able
to hold you.
Our bed
I haven't slept
in since you left.
I can't do it
my heart hurts
so much inside
this chest.
I watch
the programs
on the TV set.
The ones you enjoyed
and I hated the most.
I watch them
for you as your
coffee gets cold.
Another year has gone
has it really
been that long?
As I place the needle
on our favourite song.
I now sit here
on my own.
Doing the only
things I can
in order to cope.
But it's my heart
it hurts more
everyday.
Out of everything
and everyone
it misses you
the most.
Soon we'll
be back together.
And it's
that thought, which
keeps me strong.
As I sit here
with your coffee cup
next to mine, listening
to our favourite song.
© Jon.London 2009
Astonishing written composition.........well formed in a V pattern..nice phrasing too...10+++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 7:47:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Do you consider yourself to be a poet? On this evidence I hope not. Are you proud of this poem? I doubt it. It is full of cliché, the repetition fails to do anything but irritate, and what could have been said in no more than 6 lines has unfortunately been stretched out into much more than ever needed. Poetry like this is far to obvious it does not work the reader, and once read it is instantly forgettable. This sort of thing has been wrote about some 20million times before, mostly in the back of a teenages school journal, if you are to write about mush like this (which to be far I too indulge in this type of mush) it must be done with an edge, something different, not in your face, instant pop song sort of poem. But it's my heart it hurts more everyday. Out of everything and everyone it misses you the most. The above is a fine example of the pop song sort of lyric, think of Brittany spears and you will know what I mean, this is far to clichéd and mushy. If this poem is factual please do not thing I am playing down your loss, this poem is not an attack on you as a person, and I offer my sympathies if this is about a loved one. I suppose my point is, if you are serious about writing, and are trying to work on your craft, then this requires much work, however if this poem is just a way for you to cope with the loss, as in a cathartic sense, then ignore my rant, and keep strong. Word slave