Twice a Day

The horizon is where
the sun caresses the bay
in the final moments
before the world turns grey.

What a tragic affair;
not being able to stay,
then distress in agony hence
the sliver of time right before day.

“I haven’t the time to spare
nor have the appeal to stay
in a love that makes that little sense
and not be tempted to stray.
That’s a burden I cannot bear-“
That’s what I used to say.

In my defense
(and to my dismay),
your heart had a tear;
you were wanted to give it away.
I was on the fence,
and I couldn’t let you fall prey.

I didn’t expect to harvest so much care;
all sense I had was thrown away.
When our love started to commence,
never once did our emotions sway.

Your words were mine to wear
or to add in my head to join the disarray
or rearranged to actually make sense.
But unlike you, they were here to stay.

 

“It’s fine; I swear-”
Except that I didn’t find it okay
to be in constant suspense
whenever you were away.
So many things I needed to share,
so little time in such a long day.

“The space between us is immense;
far too soon is the sky turning grey.
None of this is remotely fair,
but I’m afraid I have to walk away,”
I said, heart suddenly dense.
I’m sorry I chose not to stay.

The horizon is where
the sun caresses the bay
in the final moments
before the world turns grey.

What a tragic affair;
not being able to stay,
then distress in agony hence
the sliver of time right before day.

“I found the time to spare
and see the appeal to stay
in a love that makes that little sense
and not be tempted to stray.
That’s a burden I wish I could bear-“
That’s what I can now say.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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