Up Belfast,
On streets flagged and fenced,
No longer with the ambulances,
You are a missed love,
From my end of the border.
It’s a decade now,
Since kisses and embraces echoed,
Fogging the car,
Comforting two,
Meeting by lapping banks.
Had things been different,
Gone to plan,
Perhaps she’d be home,
To a cooked meal and warmed welcome,
Easing into her.
But just as easily,
The sweet sour,
Hurt scarred and scared souls,
Left worse than before,
Bitter and mean.
A love that never was,
Always kept alive,
In tempting tales of fancy,
Reaching across lines and time,
To remind of what wasn’t.
#HI
About the Creator
Conor Matthews
Writer. Opinions are my own. https://ko-fi.com/conormatthews
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Comments (1)
This felt so sad. Loved your poem!