typically tepid

no pulse hammering, hot-blooded romance here -- just move along, folks, nothing to see here. ha ha

it’s not promises

made but unkept haunting me --

you made only one:

that you would stay, and you have.

know that i wanted so much

to believe in you.

i wanted to be for you

what you were for me.

i remember with little

pain how the promises died

in the back of my

throat -- how hope became vagrant

whispers of air on

my lips -- how i saw the rest

of my life before me -- and

the phrase “together

but alone” stunned me with its

somber reality.

what i protect so fiercely

now is hidden inside.  quite

probably it is

small and childish, petulant

and vacuous --

that part of me you did not

want, and now i will not give.

what sorrow there is

in knowing that life is

unmade promises,

discarded gifts, unfinished

poems and unopened doors.

 

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"sorrow there is




in knowing that life is




unmade promises,




discarded gifts, unfinished





poems and unopened doors."
So much sadness and resignation touching on the truth of life and its highs and lows done with excellent conveyance of words...Bravo

[Angi]

Such resigned sadness here. I was swallowing a lump by the time I reached the end. There just has to be more for her! There just has to be! Angi~

[Mehak Mushtaq]

" life is


unmade promises,


discarded gifts, unfinished


poems and unopened doors." Quite so. Wonderful poem!