Array ( [sid] => 136410 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Torches [time] => 2007-08-01 23:40:25 [hometext] => It's been far too long! [bodytext] => You have love, but for a few fleeting moments,
Flighty, it escapes capture,
Leaving you with a bed full of empty promises,
And so many battle-scars you don’t know how to go on.
The knock on the door that leaves you paralysed,
Your hand frozen at the handle,
Because the outline through the glass is theirs.
Their shoulders, the hair the same way.
For a moment you are breathless, unsure,
But then you realise they just look like them.
They are gone, never to come back,
Like a thief that doesn’t return to the scene of the crime.
Your heart was taken, and you didn’t even feel it,
Until it was gone, you hadn’t known it was there.

Years down the line, they call.
A message on the machine, a beeping red light,
Like a warning.
Don’t call back.
But you do.
Out of desire, intrigue, or interest,
Something pushes you into dialling that number,
One you’d convinced yourself long ago that you’d forgotten.
The heart does not forget so easily,
That voice still gives you shivers,
Makes your heart quicken with anticipation.
Their inflections are still the same.
And you find yourself thinking about the smile that goes with them.
Wondering if, somehow, you could have ended up differently.
The end of the call leaves you no closer to resolution, to closure.
That word thrown around by psychiatrists across the world.
It’s only reminded you that the flame was still burning.
That torch that you carry, can never burn out.

Do you regret a single fleeting second of it though?
Not on your life. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 224 [topic] => 24 [informant] => Ruby2sdy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LoveRemembered ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Torches


Torches
Date: Wednesday, 1st August 2007 @ 11:40:25 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Ruby2sdy
You have love, but for a few fleeting moments,
Flighty, it escapes capture,
Leaving you with a bed full of empty promises,
And so many battle-scars you don’t know how to go on.
The knock on the door that leaves you paralysed,
Your hand frozen at the handle,
Because the outline through the glass is theirs.
Their shoulders, the hair the same way.
For a moment you are breathless, unsure,
But then you realise they just look like them.
They are gone, never to come back,
Like a thief that doesn’t return to the scene of the crime.
Your heart was taken, and you didn’t even feel it,
Until it was gone, you hadn’t known it was there.

Years down the line, they call.
A message on the machine, a beeping red light,
Like a warning.
Don’t call back.
But you do.
Out of desire, intrigue, or interest,
Something pushes you into dialling that number,
One you’d convinced yourself long ago that you’d forgotten.
The heart does not forget so easily,
That voice still gives you shivers,
Makes your heart quicken with anticipation.
Their inflections are still the same.
And you find yourself thinking about the smile that goes with them.
Wondering if, somehow, you could have ended up differently.
The end of the call leaves you no closer to resolution, to closure.
That word thrown around by psychiatrists across the world.
It’s only reminded you that the flame was still burning.
That torch that you carry, can never burn out.

Do you regret a single fleeting second of it though?
Not on your life.

This poem is Copyright © Ruby2sdy


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