This is an another formerly lost poem, circa 1997. It was intended as part of an unfinished collection called “Poetic Bewailments” where I explored feelings of loss, regret, and pain. Rough year, I guess. Also, it’s hard to tell looking back now, but I get the feeling with some of the awkward phrasing, that this was written in a particular rhyme and meter, as if it were for an assignment in English class. That would not be my choice of style today.
With another day gone by,
I find myself in silence.
For the day, I dressed in black.
My love, who would have ever known
That she could, whenever, die?
She was shot in her own back.
When I learned of it, had moaned.
When the day does come I will
Find a new special someone
That will take me to new heights.
Of course, that will take some time.
Meanwhile, I must take the bill,
And cry until did the lights
Burn out and I drink not lime.