Clarity With CrackersA Poem by Chris ShawA true story, no kidding. Crackers, I ask you?
When I look back, I do not fret
or hold an ounce of sad regret, that something snapped inside my head. Our short romance was clearly dead when Jacob's crackers on a plate defined the down-turn and the state of us. He counted that I'd eaten three and while I sipped on Brooke Bond tea, he turned to me and asked me why I always ate my crackers dry. I guess it took me by surprise that disapproval in his eyes of blue. It then occurred quite suddenly, through insight flashes I could see, he thought he'd found the ideal friend. Like dough he'd work with, knead and bend or shape to suit his older ways, but in that moment through the haze it clicked. He didn't like the clothes I wore, my untamed hair he thought a bore. the books I read were lightweight dross, in all he couldn't care a toss. I saw he liked the outer shell, the inner me, his kind of hell, I walked.
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
441 Views
16 Reviews Added on July 11, 2018 Last Updated on July 11, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|