My Poems

n o v e l

In the quiet hours of a waning night,

Memories linger, shadows take flight.

You were like a novel, but I forgot,

Novels end, and love is left to rot.

Each chapter with you was a vivid dream,

A tapestry of hopes, stitched at the seam.

Pages turned with laughter, tears unshed,

Now the book is closed, our story dead.

The words you spoke, sweet melodies sung,

Now echo in silence, a song left unsung.

You were like a novel, but I forgot,

Novels end, and I'm left in this desolate spot.

The ink has faded, the plot now lost,

A love so deep, paid at a heart's cost.

The cover worn, edges frayed with time,

No sequel in sight, no rhythm or rhyme.

I search for you in every line,

In every story, in every sign.

But you were like a novel, and I forgot,

Novels end, leaving an empty lot.

So here I stand, in the aftermath,

Tracing the echoes of our past.

You were like a novel, but I forgot,

Novels end, and I'm left distraught

(Damn you, Trains)