I truly don't think this is a very good poem, but I'd like to know what you all think.
Thanks in advance.
~The Troubadour~
Isn't it strange, the way we regret
The loss of what has hurt us yet?
One day I met a troubadour.
He was rather blunt, and my feelings were injured.
But it was just what I needed.
"You have a mind, you know what it's for.
Write me a poem filled with your heart.
But if you will not write well, do not ask me to praise it."
I wrote him my poems--I showed him half my soul.
He flattered, and smiled, and I walked away.
Friendliness worried me, and the day turned rainy.
I have learned that two bad halves do not make one whole.
I learned that I should not have stayed.
I should have left, and thus escaped;
And yet I linger where he may see me,
As a shadow, that has already said goodbye.
Oh, sometimes I whisper when the dusk's light is soft:
2007-12-15
06:28:19
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9 answers
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asked by
Anonymous
in
Poetry