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Click hereInto the brown, soupy river,
from purple-painted steel,
he tossed bits of paper.
He shuffled his feet on concrete,
felt the rocks beneath rubber soles,
sighed at lonely pathways
that laid themselves
in his head
from this day forward.
He heard a clatter,
turned to look,
and saw a couple.
One had trashed something
in a purple, metal can
with a fervent toss
of obvious anger.
The woman looked irritated,
the man, forelorn -
no voice to their frustration,
only silence.
The strain he made to hear
what wasn't said
tightened down in his thighs.
He thought his strained muscles
might rip the seams
of his black trousers,
but his attention was rapt.
He turned his head to watch
as they passed
from his left to his right.
Even their obvious fight
strained his heart
with a desperate jealousy.
He turned his head back
to the last scrap
of the last photo
of his last love,
and tossed this, too,
over the purple rail.
made me cry, I can just feel the ache in his heart. very well done, albeit oh so sad
I think this is a great job. I missed his jealousy at
their fight the first time around. Maybe I haven't been
hurt enough to feel that way. This is once I'm glad
I read another's comment.
poem very much. Especially this:
Even their obvious fight
strained his heart
with a desperate jealousy.
I like what you did with this poem, how you presented it...how you showed the man's state of mind by not only his actions but by his observations. Good job!