a uniform goodbye

a uniform goodbye

the bottle lies uncorked

empty, on the floor

with the spillage of my heart

labels hurt,

esteem blown to bits

from a hand grenade of insults

she smiled as she pulled the pin

I stand at attention

and salute her treason

love is a Cold Duck corpse

the feathers are seared

I am a drunk nomad

with no country to fight for

she is a refugee

in the midnight sun

burning down the road of hope

some foreign land to my reason

I salute her treason.

erin-cilberto

3/922

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

brilliant .. top notch poetry sir .. never experienced such a brutal withdrawal from the field .. neither in person nor in print .. brilliantly written and so powerful in emotions .. how many dear John grenades have been tossed through the years ... the damage irretrievable :( reading this one hurts to the core sir .. well done!
E.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Thank you, E.
j.

[Writergurl]

I just like the last three stanza's a lot, I can feel twinge of sadness in this write.
Nicely expressed emotions

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, writergurl,
j.

[M. J. Smith]

Reads like a relationship gone bad. One of those toxic, addictive kinds that finally implodes like a star falling in on itself. Feels like one will never be over the pain. Been there. Done that. Burned the T-shirt.
Well done, J. A world of pain in a few stanzas.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, M.J.
j.