This has all the possibilities
And resembles very much
The makings, incomplete, yet seemingly whole,
Of a an ill-conceived devotional,
A detrimental rite of passageway,
The lazy affair,
Our nonchalance, always display,
In fact the casual nature is rather
Refreshing in the cavalier nature
Of disregard being the only
Common thread we share,
It began months before and sometime after,
It’s been so long, we’ve since forgotten
How it all began,
I tried the other day, as you stared lifeless at the ceiling,
What did I ever see?
Where did the passion go, was it even ever there?
Asking if I’d prefer the news,
I guess how matter of fact this all has got,
I always reply no, of course not,
To which she falls backward once again
No comments:
Post a Comment