wrinkles

poem by: Jude Kyrie
Written on Jan 31, 2015

I know it was me
my fault.
How I need to see you
just once not to talk
just to see you alive
and beautiful.
Just for a moment.
In my bedroom drawer
the pictures that were us.
No longer in glass frames
smashed in a fit of desolation.
Now a wad of history
under old birthday cards.
I lay them gently 
on the table
Smoothing them.
As if I could
smooth the wrinkles
you left in my life.

 

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A previous user commented:
Reading your poem brought up feelings in me about my father. I felt he was stolen from me in life than in death. I wanted him to see me making him proud.So much of his life i didn't know about.If you look closely you will see her in everything you do everyday. The alive and beautiful is YOU.

 

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