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Woeful
July 10, 2014
In quiet mourn, married I woe tonight
And the clock that tarries sad hours long
Hard rain constricts heart chambers tight
And depresses breath short for song
For when shall I see her future hence?
In lost adore, to maintain such keep
Aye, now drowned in her cold absence
I beget thy reason most to weep
But, alas! Deny such pleasure, please!
Solutions lie and fake what they seem
Solace looms but is not to seize--
Happiness remains all but a dream
Betrayed by He, my angel dead
Forced to marry my woe instead
© Tatyana Z., Norwood, MA
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I write from personal experience, and this poem has helped me release a lot of the trouble. Ultimately, poetry is the step to closure, not crying or wishing.