From a bed of roses

To a bed of nettles

Smooth satin sheets

Becoming metal

Tender whispers 

On plumped up pillows

Now bitter pills

And weeping willows

Love was taken

Not returned

Lust's a lesson

Never learned

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A bit of poetic free styling flash fiction

Phone rings

It's him

She recognises

The tone

'Are you alone?'

He moaned

Sounding 

So far away

'Please, don't 

Hang up

Stay'

He says

Funny how he never

Called when

He was alive

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