Curtains close
One final act plays out
To an empty house
No encore
No applause
Alone you stand
A bony fist of rage
Defiant
Alone
A pallid corpse
Begging for loose dirt
To cover your rotting stench
A faceless clown
With no one left
To heed your beck and call
Look inward my dear
At the soulless space
A Miasmic void
Survey the fetid wasteland
That we once tilled
Together
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Who were you thinking of when you wrote this Phil??! Haha!! I love it , another fantastic poem. The bony fist! Ha! I’ve got to up my game. You are inspiring me to get better at writing. Thank you! 😊
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Thanks! I’m never really sure how some of my frustrated “love” verses will be received. Glad it struck a positive chord.
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