anymore

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i was –

an empty bed and no telegram delivery.

while the coffee that brews,

waking, i stand here;

waiting, for the things i’ve lost –

to come back in different form.

i stand here in the kitchen

waiting for the things i’ve lost

to come back –

to come back in some different form.

a dear john letter,

and she won’t be coming back.

she won’t be anymore,

but forever a god damn attack on myself.

her amazing eyes,  never coming to this ship wreck.

solo black coffee toast,

yet i knew that some kind of pain was overdue –

a little expected,

but never not this soon.

never not this soon.

absolute can never be certain,

tell me it’s not this again –

she wont be coming back,

anymore,

anymore.

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i wasn’t,  and there i wasn’t.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

About bradford graham west

enjoy poetry about life, emotion and everything in between. it's real and true. - please read and enjoy! - bgw
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