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Tuesday, 24 January 2017

[Poem] Shattered Wineglasses and MIrrors

Slowly, gently whispered, 
Like nibblings against my earlobe; 
My soul came apart shred by shred, 
Letting your words rattle. 

Hope is ahead, I could touch it, 
Almost, softly, before I fall back down; 
Into the abyss unlit, 
And its murky waters I drown. 

In my mind the messy dinner scene, 
The shattered wineglasses and mirrors, 
Replayed itself like a nightmare;
And I can still hear her cries.

Copyright © thearcticstar 2016

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