I certainly miss you, Im sure of that

As i shut my eyes tighter to create a certain clarity
They begin to break and stray
Heart pounds like a hammer to a nail in thin air
My face is washed over with no rarity
My Dear old friend pain

As i yelp for help
I calculate the possibility of getting away with ecstasy

Pain continues to stream down my sinking face
My eyes widen
A breath

Can you hear me fair lady
Because I'm screaming at the world

Torment
A man with his hands tied
Drowning and dying

Wishing for
Touch
Feel
Heal

What is this thing called love
A beggars game

A poor man without food
A sore man without truth
A drowning man without proof

Im jumping off buildings in my mind
Your love was certainly one of a kind
Twas mine

I'm grabbing
Grabbing
But not receiving

This much is all true
I certainly miss you

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Love define well in your words.
"What is this thing called love
A beggars game "
I liked the above lines. Thank you Mark for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

There's a hunger in unrequited love that bites to the bone. It hurts on the deepest level, causing one to open a vein and rain. I feel the angst in this poem, perfectly penned.

[Mark Mendoza]

Thank you very much for taking the time to read . i apperciate it

[jacob erin-cilberto]

like a beggar asking for handouts..we become a beggar asking for her heart to give us some solace.
but drown in the rain of pain...others show pity, or empathy, but she just passes us on the street, just walks on by without looking back.

[Mark Mendoza]

So you know the fair maiden , thank you very much for reading and sharing your thoughts . much appreciated