She's
gone away, I hope to stay,
As
she's just no good for me I see:
We
used to play throughout our day
Quite
merrily, joyfully and happily.
She's
gone, and now I'm up for fun
Flirting
with females who seem nice:
Beginnings
that have justly begun
From
her perseverance acting like ice.
We
used to love quite generously –
She
was loving with love to share,
But
why is she acting venomously
And
seemingly without a care.
Shouting
is not my sport
And
reacting not my passion,
This
is a final last resort
Of
a vented frustration.
©
Andrew Stevenson 02/04/2017
A past poem denoting my recent ex, Sophie.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful!
xx
Linda from Beauty And Tips
Thank you for thinking so. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
DeleteSometimes vented frustration is just what you need to propel yourself past a big disappointment. Certainly writing has often made the difference for me ~ not poetry. I don't have that talent like you do ~ LOL
ReplyDeleteI did love Sophie, but she was ill too. She was on injections for years, and was stable, and we enjoyed life together. But then she went back on tablets, and was sporadic with taking them, which made her argumentative with her erratic suspicions. Writing is a release. I was writing a lot when I met Sophie, but this soon diminished as we spent most of the time together. My writing is flowing at the moment, because I've now got time on my hands! I'm glad writing has helped you. Blessings to you.
DeleteThank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
People do change Andrew, get on with your life.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed your well written poem.
Yvonne.