Ace Of Black Hearts

Silver Star - 4,222 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

The Love We Once Shared - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

An unmarked gravestone.
When is the last time you visited?
The forgotten, the forgotten, the forgotten.
How many days have went bye?
How many times have you smiled since then?
How many time have you woke in the middle of the night screaming and clenching you fist?
How many, oh how many tear drops fall and wash away in the stream of lost souls just trying to find their way back home?

His name, empty an hollow, his date of both life and death doesn't exist.
All that remains is some old bones below the dirt of an unmarked grave.
I remember when he was first conceived, things were so different back then.
Not the fear that is present ever so much now.
No one wants to help each other, too afraid to get pulled down.
But once your down here, where is it you think you are going go?
I just don't know ow ow, but I do remember the love we once shared.
I remember as you were taken away in handcuffs crying but I didn't mean too.

Hard to forget such traumatic moments.
Emotion becomes the string to the cloth we are yet to weave.
For love we will all deceive.

An unmarked gravestone.
When is the last time you visited?
The forgotten, the forgotten, the forgotten.
How many days have went bye?
How many times have you smiled since then?
How many times have you woke in the middle of the night screaming and clenching your fist?
How many, oh how many tear drops fall and wash away in the stream of lost souls just trying to find their way back home?

He had such pretty baby blue eyes, just like you.
A reflection of what we hate.
A reflection of what we contemplate.
I still don't understand why you did it.
And I probably never will.
Was he crying too loud?
Did you have to feed him one too many time.
And does the why make it any easier?

Taking a step back.
Taking it all in.
A unrealistic clouded moment with anger and hate in my eyes.
What right did you have.
Their were so many different choices back then.
How am I suppose to grieve with her ghosts image still sitting right in front of me.

An unmarked gravestone.
When is the last time you visited?
The forgotten, the forgotten, the forgotten.
How many days have went bye?
How many times have you smiled since then?
How many time have you woke in the middle of the night screaming and clenching you fist?
How many, oh how many tear drops fall and wash away in the stream of lost souls just trying to find their way back home?

Just trying to find their way back home.
Just trying to find their way back home.


Poet's Notes about The Poem

~It is not only what you take away, but also what you leave behind.

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Pablo Neruda

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Poem Edited: Wednesday, July 25, 2012


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