Tag Archives: unrequited love

Unrequited Love – #poetry – #JanuaryWriting

29 Tuesday Jan 2019

Posted by in January Writing, Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

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Where once was a door, is no longer there

Only bricks, and cracks, filled the space

I seem to remember, he, who lived here

Though I cannot, really, remember his face

Walking closer, I had to examine the wall

I really wished I weren’t so nearsighted

I, somehow, knew this wouldn’t be good

Then it hit me, twas a love, unrequited

In the blink of an eye, it had happened

The door that once was, had returned

He pulled me through, no way to go back

Tis what happens, when a lover is spurned

 

January Writing Prompt – Slipping between the seams, there was no turning back – Day 29/31

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Crinkled Pages ~ #poetry

11 Tuesday Jul 2017

Posted by in Poems, Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

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In the crinkled pages, of an old notebook

I wrote my life story, with all that it took

Parchment discolored, tattered and torn

Of how my life was ended, when yours was reborn

I had kept them so close, afraid to let go

This was just me, though you’d never know

You didn’t remember, once, we were one

All that we had, had been sadly undone

It was then that I realized, how could I be so blind

This fantasy, created, was all in my mind

You never brought roses, nor held me so close

My words on the paper, were mere empty prose

Now the books are frayed, and the roses are dried

Left there, in memory, of the day that I died

 

©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Friday Fantasy ~ Spoken but Unheard #poetry

09 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by in Friday Fantasy, Poems, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

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books-1889701_960_720
Though light filters in from far up above

A candle illuminates, her unending love

For buried deep within these pages, bound

A story is told of a love, quite profound

Each word is penned in invisible ink

Into each line, her feelings would sink

These books held her secrets, no one could see

Her life in the parchment, a true mystery

 

He opened the books, left here, all alone

The pages were empty, no words was he shown

Holding them nearer, to the candle’s bright flame

He knew there was something, it whispered his name

Closer, he brought the blank pages toward light

No words did appear, yet he felt something, slight

She whispered her love, but he caught not a word

So she stayed a closed book, spoken but unheard

 

©2016 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay