The Day the Love Died
No looking back no trying to fix
The Day the Love Died
No thunderclap, no curtain fall
just silence swelling down the hall
a look, too long, too cold to mend
a question left without an end
The morning brewed the same old tea
but something stirred too slow in me
your voice was there, your hands were near
but not the man I used to hear
No plates were thrown, no names were said
just hollow steps and half-made bed
I brushed my hair, you tied your tie
and both of us forgot to cry
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
This is one way of saying good-bye in a relationship. Good job.
A very thoughtful, introspective poem.
Well written 👏