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A poem about choices made out of our own hands no matter how hard we try. |
Adeline by Keaton Foster Endless are her eyes Screaming as to why Standing quite alone At the very edge One side is life The other is death Pointing beyond Soft, her words Somber songs Whispers of truth Within the folds Of so many lies Regardless of tone Or lack of bravado I can hear it all Every single word Adeline Once I loved her Awkward Was the way I needed her More than most She was the beat To my heart The air to each breath Now, she is none of those And even less I wished her away She escaped Left us behind Leaving while fleeing Is not really a choice Adeline I alone remain I see from afar But the distance Is quite close I know what’s next Because I understand What was before She is broken Not by me But despite us She has returned To what was before She warned me And I refused to believe That someone so beautiful Could be so damaged But she is Adeline Doing time In a prison of the mind Empty is her heart Solemn her chest A space devoid of love Not because of what she wished But because of what I made so Now I have to stand here And see her as she was And as what she has become Now I must face what I’ve done Because like her Before all of this Before us I was not capable of love I tried to be for her sake But such a thing is not possible Nor was it ever for either of us… Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2023 |