I Write In My Grave | Short Poem No. 110

I write where I passed. . . I write in my grave.
I write in passing. . . there’s naught I can save.
Writing can sometimes rekindle my gall.
Can writing sometimes rekindle a crawl?

Would you ditch me here in this tomb to rot?
You observed me carefully mark my spot.
I sunk in sin, duped by a false lover.
What love grants you to die for another?

I write in my grave
Photo by Josh Miller on Unsplash

I grew in sin, became a false lover.
False love robbed you of me to another.
What’s reckless, what’s not. I deserve it all.
But cautious love will seize me when I fall.

I lie in my grave. . . I whisper your name. . .
Remind myself that love’s always the same.

Sometimes, My Only Friend

Β© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Author: Jay Bleu

An Original Blend of Perfume and Poetry

21 thoughts on “I Write In My Grave | Short Poem No. 110”

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