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Click hereIn between a bite and a sip
eyes roam with some delay
through the wet newspaper I flip
with what broke yesterday
I turn the page and read the dead
a sudden urge I'd never had
I turn the page
I turn the page
hiding tears that want to be shed
stilled by the name that once was you
recalling what you'd done
asking myself, can it be true
one fallen angel gone
in all those years I'd learned to hate
the insight comes it is too late
in all those years
in all those years
untold remained my story's fate
the seed of doom you planted within
I wished I could char
burning hot like where on my skin
I placed the final scar
I think it's time to open up
what happened to me, your first pup
I think it's time
I think it's time
right after I had one last cup.
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Find more, and differently themed nine-line poetry in this thread on Lit's forum.