Poem – “The Love we Both Shared” – Romance – 11/26/2019

A foolish criminal,
For I murdered a love,
We had shared with wine and blood,
With sweetness and bitterness,
Among the beauty and the ugliness,
With sugar and sand.

Love should be our Thanksgiving,
A memory we should treasure,
Though, I had murdered it, and left a bird to rot.

I would thank myself,
For being alive,
But, I am nothing but a criminal,
Who had murdered a love,
Who had murdered an emotion,
Where once a face showed every person in sight.

Why is love now a stone?
I had dropped it.
I was too weak to carry it,
Onward, to see the end,
Of the road of pebbles.

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This is a blog for the romantic and inspired, and of those who yearn to share intimacy in the form of words. Acceptance of comments, that is, is necessary to fill-out my work, when a critique is offered. This blog treats romanticism in the fashion it has always been placed, with endless emotion from the stirring love and of a heart drowned in sorrow. Beauty and love has continued to be my focus, and it is a focus for those who yearn for it, either in its return or in its newness.

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