MELANCHOLIC MUSING.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A WOMAN'S MELANCHOLIC MUSINGS.

Submitted: June 20, 2010

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Submitted: June 20, 2010

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There is always that
Impending sense of
Death hanging nearby,
Lingering like a

Bag thief to snatch and
Run. You ponder and
Look beyond, at least
Momentarily;

After all, you’ve heard,
Humanity drowns
In reality.
Act out the part well,

Father had said, be
Convincing, fool the
Morality mugs.
You wince now at his

Harsh words, their follow
Through implications.
Mother kept silent
About such matters,

Leaving it to your
Father to rant and
Philosophise. Death
Stares back at you from

The mirror, the lines
And the feared ageing
Process is scarcely
There, but waiting, just

Loitering in the
Nearby corners. You
Can still feel the last
Man’s juices; his dried

Up kisses like dull
Bruises. The love you
Sought is not to be
Found between those cold

Covers, in that soiled
Bed. The only love
You really want to
Know’s inside your head.


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