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Sitting on the coffee table
a few meters away from me...
by James Nappo
The curtain drops,
and darkness falls...
by Em (marmite)
Tears form icicles in my eyes
as I listen to more of your lies...
by Angela S.
I blamed you that night,
And I regret it now...
It grips you
It takes hold...
by Maple Tree
Losing the ability to reach out to the sun
my grip upon the night has taken it's toll...
The saddest tears are the driest ones seen in the bravest smile.
Don't tell one who writes of grief to rethink their "I" statements. When you know they had tears on their hands as they wrote, don't say the poem could be better. You might as well say their grief could be worse.
If someone shares a poem with you that is meant to help close an open wound, they don't want your opinion. They want your hand on their shoulder, gripping it tight.