Wordle #225 and Photo Challenge #87


image by Richard Loader

My silent hands brim over,

For all the tears captured

Many more topple without mention.

Seven dishes left to freeze

In the wake of your uproarious laughter.

An evening planned in detail,

A delusion governed by poor choices.

I scramble to my feet

Chair scraping the floor.

A nameless bird pecks,

At my soul’s shuttered windows.

Never again shall I succumb to thee.

I’ll return to the eaves from which I came,

To the grey lady and her impeccable waste.

In a shack I’ll spend my days,

A menagerie of hearts gone astray.

How did I ever manage to love you?

All those dirty looks

And impassive sneers.

I should have known.

I knew but chose not to.

Destiny, it seems, cannot be

Shaken and a man can be worth

Only as much as he, himself, determines.


Meeting with the unemployment office today!