Doomed From the Start 2A Poem by Rosi S. PhillipsThis is more personal than anything“Okay, bye.” Last words. Stupid words. Why did I say them? I don’t even know your name. What an enigma you were. How different from everyone else How different from me But Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not your name. Minutes tick by Stretching into eternity I can’t help but check my phone You’ve made me an addict But Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not your name. Did I think you would call back? Yes Am I sad you didn’t? Yes Am I ashamed of what I did? No Because Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not your name. Our time always had a poem in it Even though you called them stupid From that first laugh Yours or mine It was destined to end with a sad poem Because Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not your name. Did I try and hold you in a box? Yes, but you alluded me And am I so easily replaceable to you? Apparently You, who has answered only two of my questions And me, who you know everything about Ah, but Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not your name. Four more minutes have passed I’ve deleted you from my phone I can’t call you I can’t do that to myself You won’t call again I know that because Zain, Zain, Zain, that’s not even your name. Are you proud of me now? Happy to see me teary eyed with a bottle in my hand I’m not weak. I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll be fine. Because Zain, Zain, Zain, you never told me your name. And that’s what it boiled down to You were a figment of my imagination My hopes and dreams, something that could never be I should have known better I did at the beginning But then the texts were fast and sure, the conversations interesting and long But all through that, through it all Zain, Zain, Zain, I never knew your name.
© 2014 Rosi S. PhillipsReviews
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Added on July 9, 2014Last Updated on July 9, 2014 AuthorRosi S. PhillipsDC, DCAboutRosi S. Phillips was born in 1993 with caramel colored skin, to a Nigerian immigrant father and a 2nd generation Finnish mother. With this background, International awesomeness was soon to follow. .. more..Writing
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