Tuesday, February 26, 2013


He really had it good
but didn't realize
what others understood
so kept on telling lies
and now his sleepless nights are spent
beside a pillow without a dent
there's no way he can circumvent
the fact that he will soon repent.

The sheets turn icy cold
for lovers left alone
and silence tends to scold
the fool whose heart has flown
although by then the damage is dealt
delivering a livid welt
and maybe once that pain is felt
the icicles will finally melt.


Brother Ollie said...

this pretty much sums up my day - classic winter poem

rch said...

Yo Ollie, can't wait for spring.