Sorrowful Cries
Clouds of cold, dark depressant
Roll over my loathsome state.
Life has become boring suppressant
To this romantic’s lost love relate.
Agéd air dust, in my lungs, consume
Encompassing sweet aroma
Of passion’s addicting perfume
As this Don Juan lies in coma.
Warm, fast flowing red liquid
Turns frigid blue, sluggish slop
As salty tear drizzle invokes mud;
Dried, hardened crust, from toe to top.
Compassionate, loving heart
Fades to solid, stone elect
As companionships depart
And stone, statue body erect.
Mother Willow solemnly weeps
As sapling statue slowly crumples.
Father time unknowingly sleeps
As rusted heart statue fumbles.
Decayed and falling apart,
This romantic's remains rise;
From ill-beaten ash heart
To ride wind’s sorrowful cries.
poem by Robert L. Bixler III
Added by Poetry Lover
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