I really don’t
Not about this
Not about that
Not a thought
Not a boat
Nor a slim chance it will float
I don’t want to hear it
So long it can’t be said
So long it can’t be heard
Probably it won’t be true
Probably it stays a fluke
Of an evening, unmet
In the sadness of a night without regret
I don’t want to hear it
Don’t blame it on me
Don’t ask me why
The permission is not granted, nor is the guilt
So do we wilt to the agony
Of this dance on mahogany
Tapping feet in a tantrum of silence
And yet, you got it…
No, you won’t, you heard it right…
I don’t want to hear it.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
“In the sadness of a night without regret”! If I may, I wrote a short poem in my youth with this line, “Like the black of a night hardly fed by the moon.” Hadn’t thought of that line for many many years. Funny. But not funny “ha ha” 🙏
Profound poetry