Poem #236

The emptiness of this room whispers
to me with the same pain you had in your voice:
“Sometimes love just isn’t enough”

With those words you made the poetess
in me want to set on fire all of the poems she wrote.
If not love, then what?

5 thoughts on “Poem #236

  1. So I thought all day about that question. It’s a really good one. I can’t think of a good answer. What do you love? Is mine. And you could emphasize each word differently to ask another. That makes you a good writer.

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