9 October

~~~~~

I am a man of flaunted character.

I greet random people for laughs.

With the tune of humor I sang to her,

and the river of humans merged paths.

Formal conversations select a form

of grammar and exclamation marks.

but soon it was like living in the same dorm.

On each other we left watermarks.

Life with her was radiant.

We were gears supporting each other.

Days passed by as if a gradient.

My heart wandered towards no other.

Her name is synonymous with drummer,

and pound at my heartbeat she did.

I was her melodious hummer.

Into something greater I slid.

Through a cry came miscommunication.

My crime of love I did confess.

But love is a pit of damnation.

I shouldn't have expected less.

My demons found no match.

Apparently I was being misled.

A shadowed exterior my heart did then snatch.

I was waiting for an, "Off with his head!"

She struggled with the concept for a while.

My certainty began to quake.

There was no longer a reason to smile.

It seemed I had made a mistake.

The floods of compliments soon met a dam.

Our patterns soon met a change.

On the breaks my pleasure did slam,

tacitly agreed to estrange.

Perhaps she should've known better

than to break the heart of an artist.

Our ties had no suicide letter.

Figuring this out would require the smartest.

Maybe you could say I'm a scholar,

but for this I had no solution.

My brain has grown smaller and smaller.

Euphoria is an adequate pollution.

Of denial she registered as minister.

We became nothing more than strangers.

Her jeers crawled into sinister.

It is friendship my emotion endangers.

Her disposition I did not know.

but tears still flooded my prison.

Should I hope for remission or should I go?

It was time to make a decision.

All it would take was a flick of the hand,

one simple and accurate touch.

The words I could barely understand.

The sign was written in Dutch.

Strange feelings organized my baptism.

My enchantress was so abruptly gone.

I pondered while flopping in lachesism,

Had I done to her something wrong?

Alas I already saw my actions' stare.

Is that a cowardly thing to say?

Perhaps it is, but I don't care.

I doubt she'd want to see me anyway.

I learn to move from the past,

as any creator should.

But this heartbreak will not be the last.

For now I live in childhood.

Although the tides swept it away,

I loved the fabric of that summer.

For her wisdom and beauty I pray.

My wonderful Pierian drummer.