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The Newspaper

I thought I had left that room empty,
Soul beared, torn indignantly.
Numb.
Fragile and coiled cold.
Outpoured the bottle
Truth told.

Each footstep away
Courage guarded.
The door closed behind me that final time
Not to revisit at any time

Your head rose from your paper
Look just the beautiful same
Not a shred of difference
Had in my memory remained?

Our eyes met,
Mine bleeding with pain
For the need of some response from you,
Not hate and blame.

Another door closes
Ushered away from your blank gaze.
Your head folded back into your paper
The chance had passed.

Each step away, aching
The memory of your face
It was now I felt empty,
Eyes in frosted glaze,
tear filled face.

The Newspaper

Jak  Savage

Joined January 2011

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 20

Artist's Description

To my brother

Artwork Comments

  • George Coombs
  • Jak  Savage
  • lisameryl
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  • oema
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  • timbuckley
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  • Norma-jean Morrison
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  • Arcadia Tempest
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  • SimplyRed
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  • David Mowbray
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  • jainiemac
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