broken heart · Messed up · poetry · Uncategorized · weird


Her shadow haunts me from below

This pond in which we used to go.

Where we would picnic, talk, and laugh

But now the speech is only half.


She stares at me from down below

The ponds surface if she knows,

That I’m the one that put her there,

Her bleeding flesh, and waving hair.


She glances up from three feet down,

Below the surface. In a gown.

That’s perfect for her memories shade

Her imperfections fully fade.


The policeman tried to take her off,

And store her stiffly in a coff’.                          *Coffin

But I knew that would never do

And brought her here, till I was through.


Starring at her emerald eyes

The brilliant smile, of warm surprise

I would not let them keep her there

My Adiline, is far too fair.


She reaches up, as I reach out

to take her hand, and then I shout

What is this God? This crimson curse,

That finds me here. Dark, and perverse!?


That someone could take her from me

Leave both the crime and me, empty!

She stares at me from way down there,

With sullied skin and waving hair.

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