July

July

 

I remembered I felt

No purpose

Surrounded by a neglected glance,

                                                          

                                     Take a look at me,

 

And see the moment

Before I asked myself

 

                                    What had I lost?

 

His eyes

Were remarkably cold

and heavy as an ax

His lips

 

I remembered them, but I can’t explain

 

He inspired neither love nor fear,

Just uneasiness

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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