Monday, May 11, 2015


There are days
When sorrows wake up with you.
Last night’s moon haunts you
Like a fool’s mirror,
Reflecting lights
That you must misconstrue -
Reminders that madness has stepped nearer.

These are your random days of dire distress,
Regrets without meaning,
Pointless despair,
Hollow hot tears that scorch,
Bid you repress
Sanguine thoughts
Of others who might still care.

And when the sadness lifts
You will wonder
Where it went
And when it plots to return.
But for now
Your heart quakes,
Split asunder,
Although it beats,
The pulse stings like a burn.

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