Drug abuse
She had curls upon her crown
As pure and soft as eiderdown
A smile so wide such beauty to behold
She had eyes of Irish blue
A deep and haunting saddest hue
For she would never live to ere grow old
She would cry late at night
And not with me share her sad plight
In fear the love we knew would cease to be
She would dance till setting sun
Whilst others walked she would run
I often wondered what she saw in me
I failed to see the furtive glance
The changing moods the look askance
The silence that now brings to me such shame
She would often leave our home
In need of space to be alone
And I knew then our love was not the same
I packed my bag and went away
She cried she begged 'Please with me stay'
But I was hurt confused in love now lost
I sometimes saw her on the street
The pain in her eyes would me greet
I never knew the price my love her cost
One year went by and I moved on
Immersed in drink ore loves sad song
The ever wandering unfaithful carefree knave
Then late one night her mother came
And said 'Brendan you are not to blame
T'was the needle put her in an early grave'.
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 710 times
Written on 2005-10-25 at 06:17
Tags Sad
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Margi
MargieShe had curls upon her crown
As pure and soft as eiderdown
A smile so wide such beauty to behold
She had eyes of Irish blue
A deep and haunting saddest hue
For she would never live to ere grow old
She would cry late at night
And not with me share her sad plight
In fear the love we knew would cease to be
She would dance till setting sun
Whilst others walked she would run
I often wondered what she saw in me
I failed to see the furtive glance
The changing moods the look askance
The silence that now brings to me such shame
She would often leave our home
In need of space to be alone
And I knew then our love was not the same
I packed my bag and went away
She cried she begged 'Please with me stay'
But I was hurt confused in love now lost
I sometimes saw her on the street
The pain in her eyes would me greet
I never knew the price my love her cost
One year went by and I moved on
Immersed in drink ore loves sad song
The ever wandering unfaithful carefree knave
Then late one night her mother came
And said 'Brendan you are not to blame
T'was the needle put her in an early grave'.
Brendan.
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 710 times
Written on 2005-10-25 at 06:17
Tags Sad
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
