CONFESSIONS OF A WIDOWED VIRGIN

<a href="I Walk the Line“>

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…and I’d stay here
waiting and wanting
wishing the sky was you
and the stars were your eyes
I could smell you in the wind
and see your cocky smile in trees

oh! don’t be flattered, I’m only joking

psychotic; that’s what you made me
a love bird with no wings to fly
now I brood over pain in basilicas
anticipating the smiles that elope me
too far from the farthest sorcerer
the game of love, is what I dread the most
for if love ever had a sting so evil to bear
I was the unfortunate victim

of bars and rods, and bolts and hinges
I curse the day I set my eyes on that thing
the thing they call love, I call it nonsense
this is how I now sit to mourn and tell
how I became the widowed virgin of love

By Ruth Brodrick. Copyright 2015

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Author: I- read

This is a free blog aimed at watering poetic minds and quenching the thirst of readers. My passion for words commemorates the desires to speak the truth, interplay with emotions and voice the fights in troubled souls. Welcome to i-read..

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