Nero CaroZiv

The Day You Stop Being Mine - Poem by Nero CaroZiv

At stormy morning rush, I had left my house at eight,
Half dormant, still in my night dream through city broken roar
With all the rest of metropolis crowd this is how I always do without a moment late
The train platform so crowded, with people agitated ants coming, flowing thru revolving doors

My train, I'm certain, left the station just when it was due
I must have read the morning paper going into down town
And having gotten through the editorial, no doubt I must have frowned
The gray morning had that crowd of clouds churning into tarnished hue.

I must have made my desk around a quarter before nine
With letters to be read, and heaps of papers waiting to be examined and signed
I must had gone to lunch at half past twelve without the stomach to dine

All as usual as the day before you stop being mine
The usual place, the ordinary food the same table
And still on top of this I'm pretty sure it must have rained
For few moments I sat there after lunch, my mind totally disable

The lose is immense, a phantom vanished, water in the drain
I sat by the window of the restaurant on a busy street
Watching lovers hand by hand, walking along a fountain creek
My heart bounced heavily inside my chest
A rebel that would not let my thoughts be calm and rest

I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two
And at the time I cannot but notice I was so empty blue without you
I must have kept on dragging through the business of the day
Without really knowing anything, I hid my whole being away

At five I must have left, there's no exception to the daily routine
A matter of habit or rule, no excuse to the broken hearted as I have been
From the rainy track to the train and back home again
Undoubtedly I must have read the evening paper then

Oh yes, I am sure my life is well within it's usual normal frame
Just as it was the day before you came
But I lost my strength to hide my pangs and cover my shame
The throng in the train probably read on my face all about my tortured name

I Must have opened my front door at seven o'clock or so
And stopped along the way to buy some fruits, I watch my diet you know
I'm sure I had my dinner watching something on shows
There is not, I think, a single episode to sooth love blows

I must have gone to bed around a quarter after ten
I tried to occupy my painful head, I must have read a while
But none can take you off my thoughts no matter the tale or the style
It's funny, but I had no sense of living without aim
So deep are my wounds since the day you left and never came

And turning out the light the dreadful foul night had fallen darkening my sight
I must have heard the stray cats moaning to welcome the creatures of the night
And rattling on the roof I must have heard the sound of persistent rain
And the whirling winds banged the shutters on wet walls again and again
Even in my bed I carry the burden of a day you never came

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 2, 2013

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