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Joining the Resistance

Poetry By: Tatia Shurgaia

An artistic man finding his way out of a spontaneous love.

Submitted:Jan 6, 2013    Reads: 10    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   

He says he's a writer,

A passionate man.

Smokes a cigarette,

And takes the pen.

He wants to be a young actor,

Loves to travel.

Told me he loved that beautiful redhead,

That she knew her way in his bed.

She was wild and free,

He was love stunned and blind as can be.

Till this day he loves her,

But she doesn't even bother.

One day I saw him at a coffee shop,

Asked him how he was,

He said he was brokenhearted,

He needed some healing.

He has lost his way,

Told me he wanted to go away.

Six months later,

I ran into him in Paris.

Come have some drinks with me he pleaded.

He lived in a small apartment,

Paint splattered all over his white walls,

Piles of books on the floor,

Gave me his hand,

And told me he survived the fall.

He said he used to be such a mess,

She fucked him up so bad.

I hugged him,

Told him I was glad.

He was a man of romance,

But gave the wrong ones a chance.

Was always at his knees,

Begging for a miracles,

And screaming please.

One day he told me to join the resistance,

Told him I could never go the distance.

He said even if you get lost,

You'll be found.


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