Dry-Eyed, Glancing at My Watch

I'm not sentimental.  I'm just not.
I cannot tell you why.  A string
Of pets which died when I was young,
Embarrassments at school, a father
Who was somewhat cool, a mother
Who was, and still is, a broken
And unpleasant thing; these could be
Reasons.  I don't know.  I don't miss,
Don't remember fondly, friends
And lovers who have gone.  Time goes
By and my grip's loose.  I don't look
Back to see what slipped it.  My eyes
Only look ahead..., but in my future,
Some weeks hence, I'm going to be
Reunited with one of those loves
Who've gone.  I do remember having
Spent some very pleasant days with her,
But I can't truly say I miss them,
And I understand she'll meet me with
The one who took my place.  Will I
Rejoice when we're together, or will
I regard her as another relic of my past,
And unsentimentally decide that
I don't care?

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2023-01-19 at 22:00

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
A poem that ends with a question: Only you can make that decision, Lawrence... my guess is you will not show any sign of sentimentality, but inside you will be formatting the words for another poem. :)
Blessings, Allen