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Sweet Irony Silence only makes me wonder, What life could have given to us. What could have been between you and I? We would have been happy. We would have loved each other so much. Eternity would have flown by, And we wouldn't have turned back. Our lips would have met Our bodies would have engaged. Our souls would have mated. Our love would have bloomed. Bloomed into a million opportunities; Our happiness would have been everlasting. Wanting you the way I do, Only makes me weaker. I dream of all that should have been, But this sweet irony brings me back. I live daily the destiny that was meant for you and I. It is not you who I kiss. It is not you who I embrace. I live meaninglessly. I can not see you, I can not hear you, Touch you or feel you. After dreaming you, I come back to life. I realize our time was limited; Only a glimpse of what could have been. My days are endless. I live with no direction. Pain is all that's left, Left for me inside these walls. Then I think of what you've done to me. I see how my life was changed from the moment our eyes met. How, I viewed life from a different perspective. How your world changed mine. Sadly, those moments were not enough for you. Now, all that remains are memories I will hold dear. The memory of a love, A love that was not set free. The love among two that was not given the chance. I am now left alone. Left with the sweet mist of your breath, The shine of your eyes in my mind, The desire that never became, And your sweet voice to haunt me for the rest of my days. Here in the silence of these walls, I will reminisce of the short-lived love. Of two lovers united by chance, Separated by destiny. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Irene E Fraley On Date: 2004-01-30 15:29:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Hello Robin,
I am so sorry that your love was unrequited. That is so sad! I will address the poem itself first:
The poem is neither rhymed nor metered. It has good flow, moving well from beginning to end, with no appreciable halts. The first person voice works well here, the emotions come through powerfully, and yet are not overrwhelming. The reader is able to identify with the poet at once. I particularly liked "the sweet mist of your breath", which I though was a striking image.
On a personal note, I hope that writing this down has helped you. I find that the only way to let go of something is to write it to death, and I'm glad to see you have the start of a sad acceptance. I won't offer you a "band-aid", as only you can pace your healing, but know that you are not alone.
Take care and please keep on writing. It's obvious that you have skill...
Rene