Sorrow

One day I came home and found my roommate, Ron, bless his heart, sitting on the couch with a smile on his face. In my hand was a letter, from the Amherst Society, saying that they had published my poem in their yearly complilation. And that was the begin

 

I said I cared.

She, however, did not.

So full of emptiness.

Not wanting another bite.

Staring out vacant-eyed at the moon,

no longer does she hold joy or wonder.

Neither does life.

I was blue today,

again,

and again not knowing why.

Wanting the tears to come,

needing the cleansing flow.

Know that the paths were all too worn,

for nothing.

I told her that I cared.

Said it so many,

love came and went on my lips.

She, however, said nothing.

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Strange how we can feel so much, yet recieve so little in return. You've expressed that in such a delicate yet sad way.