The last dance.

The last dance.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

The last dance.
When the parting of love
became the last dance,
there was no tango;
a quick step for her,
a slow waltz for him.
They both tripped.

© 2016 andrew mitchell


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

62 Views
Added on August 4, 2016
Last Updated on August 4, 2016

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



About
Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..

Writing