Friday 27 November 2009

FRIDAY 27th NOVEMBER 2009.

It’s not him
I’ve left,
It’s her,

But when

In pain
She sets
To stir,

And all

Her games
And threats
Return;

The ones

That blame,
And let
Me burn,

And in

Those flames
My sweat
Is heard

Until

She drains
Regretful
Words.

1 comment:

  1. I really like this. I normally have issues with strict structures in poetry but this is very cool. I'll send around my twitterverse =]

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