For P.M.

For P.M.

A lifetime ago, I loved you,
Reason fled,
Good intentions died in your splendorous smile.
A whole lifetime ago,
The caress of your lips said goodbye;
Fortune laughed.
Lonely, desolate, ignorant child, I,
I’d never known death.
But the dead remain unforgotten,
The memory of you evokes a pain
that hell would envy.


A terrible piece from the past, and even more terrible is that, despite the idea of eternal love, I haven’t a clue as for whom I wrote this. I suspect this was some kind of exercise and not something from my own experience.


About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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One Response to For P.M.

  1. PennyD says:

    Even if it was an exercise, it is plainly clear you lost something or someone.


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