Half Remembered Illusion


Wake.
          Feed.
                   Sleep.
                              Work.
                                        Dream.
Yet what is dreaming?
Laugh,
            Ache,
                      Turn,
                               And leave.
A spoken word. A broken friendship.
Heart burns. The party's ended.
The kind advance met with confusion,
There's nothing left to do, but miss him.
And cry,
             Sleep,
                        Dream,
                                    About him.
There's nothing left of say, but scream.
Without that much,
                              It's left to grief,
And happiness is half remembered illusion,
A dead belief.

love's tempestunrequited love

◄ Metal - Mania

A Spark Of Words ►

Comments

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Tue 20th Apr 2021 05:38

Thank you for your comment Nigel 🌷
It is so optimistic and romantic, it makes me look forward happily to that new party and new dream and whenever it might begin.

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Nigel Astell

Mon 19th Apr 2021 23:54

A spoken word
a new friendship
heart burns love
the party begins
so has dreaming.

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Mon 19th Apr 2021 23:02

Thank you for commenting Ferris 🌷

I was very much into spaced out (space punctuated) writing then, not just in my poetry. It does look like smoke which I suppose is quite apt for the topic, my subconscious instincts must have been on point that day. Nonetheless I wasn't confident about this poem as a whole even though there are parts of it that I do like the style of, so thank you for the positive feedback.

Thanks also to everyone who clicked 'Like' for this poem 💐

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Ferris Ty Taylor

Mon 19th Apr 2021 13:04

The shape of this poem reminds me of smoke.
I LOVE the rhythm of the first ten lines. Exceptional stuff.

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