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Click hereSing no more sweet, sad songs of yesterday,
Lingering longingly, and looking back.
Either go home now, or come out to play.
Please put the picture albums down, away
From you, arrange them in a nice neat stack.
Sing no more sweet, sad songs of yesterday.
Keep memories of prior times at bay,
Like hounds, howling warning of attack.
Either go home now, or come out to play.
These old things are heavier than they weigh,
I beg: set them aside, put off your black.
Sing no more sweet, sad songs of yesterday.
Simply impossible, you can’t, you say.
A smile is strange; but for tears you’ve a knack.
Either go home now, or come out to play.
I’ve lingered over-long; I can’t delay.
My patience is ice-thin, and you’re the crack.
Sing no more sweet, sad songs of yesterday,
Either go home now, or come out to play.
quite an emotive piece that uses the villanelle form well
mentioned in today's new poem reviews
First the sestina, now the villanelle;
You just love playing with form poems, don't you?