A Poetry Collection

Everything That's New is Old

No vows to break the silence,
No promise to be found.
No whisper of your presence,
No soul to me was bound.

I feel it in my bones now,
They rattle and they creak.
Familiarly so empty,
At least this time I am not weak.

I stand upon the precipice
And stare into the void.
The wind that blows around me
Of emotions all devoid.

I hum a quiet melody,
Its theme is carried far.
A song I wrote to you, love;
Sweet reminders of my scars.

Something that never leaves me,
Never gives me moment's rest;
A longing, aspiration,
To at last be someone's best.

But my head is bowed in sorrow,
Resignation takes its hold.
I thought you could be different,
But everything that's new is old.