Thomas Attwood


The Time That You Go - Poem by Thomas Attwood

I know it well,
The time that you left,
The sea crashes down
On you, spitting at you.
Where the arcades are
Of usual enjoyment.
Emptied. You toss the
Coins, tumbling,
At a chance. Wrecking
Your life, taking
Your time. The raw
Hail cutting at your
Skin. Your loneliness
Pulling you away,
From yourself.
Nobody is there to
Save you. An invisible
Darkness surrounds you.
No shelter from its
Reach. You remember it too
The time that you left.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 27, 2010



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