Tuesday, January 3, 2017

We do not talk about that

There are some things 

That are better left in silence 

Hanging like dead bodies from trees 

In midst of conversations and broken sentences

It's easy to ignore 

hard to say no 

And extremely difficult to control saying 

Babe, I told you so

Now we've practised exchanging longing looks 

We've almost mastered the love in the eyes 

The cracks in this facade are plastered over 

So we can't hear each other's sighs

Why pay attention when life's full of tension

It's apocalypse of soul, but darling don't mention 

When God opens his book to take stock of us sinners 

We'd still be asking each other 

Love, what's for dinner? 

Because we do not talk about that


Forgive the formatting. I'm on a mobile device and this poem just wanted out. 

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