Two Is An Odd Number

Two Is An Odd Number

Set beneath her

His story in the telling

A lump of dough for her to play with

Although,

Look at me she pleads

Twenty seven years old and yet to be molded

For unsculptured lovers

Love’s lost in every angle

Confounded balance

Where were you when the mirror cracked

And propinquity plunged our reflections

In fragmented romance

Harmony will always be our enemy

Who were we to expect symmetry?

Reviews

[Laura Almeida]

I like the ending punch line, of a nice short poem about love

[Ronan Munnelly]

thank you very much! thanks for reading