My December

You never truly know what you have until it's gone.

My moving hand writes on and on,

No matter what I say,

I cannot bring him to erase,

That cold December day.

 

The day was sad and wearisome,

It chilled me to my core,

I’d known that something would go wrong,

Though I could not be sure.

 

I’d felt so tired and lonely, still,

My heart had ached for him,

I’d wished that he were there with me,

Beneath the Christmas trim.

 

I knew that things between us changed,

I’d felt it in the air,

No longer would he speak to me,

Or touch my face or hair.

 

His silence slowly poisoned me,

My anger rose too quick,

We screamed out such profanity,

I’d never felt more sick.

 

His silence is much stronger now,

It plays a different tune,

A song of sad abandonment,

It is my Clair De Lune.

 

I won’t forget that Christmas Eve,

I always will remember,

The night I made that one mistake,

The End of my December.

Author's Note

They say personal experiences make the best poetry. I believe that idea.

Reviews

[David Lewis Paget]

Very impressive, Katie, you certainly have the gift. Your rhymes seem natural, not forced, and you express your feelings in such a way that the reader can relate. This is a narrative! I did find, however, that I wanted to read 'A sad song of abandonment' rather than the other way round, but that's just a personal quibble. Great work!

[David Scott]

Sadness and cold despair without bitterness. I like that touch! I'm sorry you had any personal experience to pen this, but I am thankful for reading it.

[Katie Lynn]

Thanks. I don't really see a reason to be bitter about anything. Life happens and then moves on. It's the way the world works and nothing can change that. So I accept it. :)

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

You are one of the most taleted poets I know by now
Your words flow and so beautiful ... although sad

[Katie Lynn]

Thanks :)

[Forest Green]

Excellent...wonderful writing of the past.

[MachinaWriter]

Very true, and this is a great poem. Very easy to follow and weaves its way onwards like a story. And you are very right. Personal experiences make for great poetry. The wounds of our past bleed the emotions that become the ink of our words.

[EMMIE]

I believe that idea a 100%!!! This is really heart breaking but beautiful at the same time and it really shows it's from deep within you.