The Cloud

You sink into a cloud of mist,

Becoming memory

And leaving on my heart another scar


I let you go; I wish you won’t

Remember me:

My ugly face, my ugly thoughts, the ugly way I laugh…


I love you, though, I don’t

Deserve to love you,

And dream of you without reserve or shame


As your way vanishes in clouds, I run

Farther, and farther –

I’m running from the hope that you would follow me

8 thoughts on “The Cloud

  1. As Carl notes…the pain in this poem is quite intense…it left me with a sense of deep sadness….you have laid open a raw nerve…powerful poem.

    1. I think at 62 you look at this ‘phenomenon’ – and all others – with eyes of wisdom and a sense of humor :). Meanwhile, I often find myself looking at things like a silly little girl.

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