None.

 Morning for
lover’s lost

The list is long
not so proud.

The mourning widows weep in long black shrouds.
So solemn with their broken hearts

at least he’s gone
Never to be heard from again

Mine sits across from me breaking every day
What the fuck am I doing here?

Why have I been saying this my whole life?

The veins they cry out for redemption.
They want their day in the sun.

Oh the sun.

The warm light brings me no joy.
I hide in the shade.
The warmth it makes the flaws apparent.
I have no need.
I’ll stay in the shade.

Oh the sweet shade of the oak’s tree branch.
The inhabitants sing songs to me.
It’s okay now.
So they harp.
I have a hard time feeling their warmth.

Another self obsessed poet type.
I don’t need this in my life.

Who will know me?