Moss lifted from a lake will bleed water upon my feet,
Saved from drowning,
Crying to drown again.
Bittersweet, Bittersweet, Bittersweet the memory.
Hollowed out scars of abandonment,
Face their foe of remembrance,
Struggling in battle.
Stalemate, Stalemate.
Bequeathed pain of loss shouts down recollection,
Reminiscence fights to fill void.
To remember is hurt,
To remember is to learn.
three bittersweets in the piece jars a little for me jackie, but the opening of the piece is simply wow... really enjoyed this thou x
Thank you so much Lea, I wasn't sure if the repetition worked when I wrote it, I'm so glad it does.
Thu 26th Feb 2015 23:34
Hi Jackie, I absolutely love this poem, the opening image is so strong, and the repetition of bittersweet & stalemate - really evocative, thanks for sharing x
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Jackie Phillips
Fri 27th Feb 2015 14:24
Cheers Andy, I appreciate the feedback. Perhaps bittersweet x 3 is one too many.