All Thatís Left Is Metaphors

by Nailah Abdus-Salaam

 
She had no refund 
For the love she gave him,
No credit, no exchange,
No inventory,
No triumph of a happy love story.
Just a few personal entries,
For all the love she gave is now buried.
Al there isÖ
Is a an unrelenting ache,
Of heart strings ready to break.
Tied to be neglected and shunned,
Here no victory is won, by either one.
Now all thatís left is words and metaphors,
And tears flowing,
Consistent down pours.


All Thatís Left Is Metaphors by Nailah Abdus-Salaam

© Copyright 2014. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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