Poetry

Sarah Bell


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22 april 2012

Mornings

When I wake to greet a day
the morning sun creeping in
pours light upon my tired face.
First in line thoughts of you
before I’ve touched a toe
to the floor beyond my bed.

Loneliness envelopes me
every fiber of my being
is crippled by my memories.
Rapidly getting suppressed
feelings being swallowed back
I rise to take my steps.

Simple things that meant nothing
a challenge they’ve become.
Coffee is ironically
poetically bitter sweet.

I sit now alone sipping
as sport clips flash across
a muted television screen.
Deep in thought on how
forgetting you maybe a choice
I haven’t the luxury to make.


Written 2011 S.A.B.






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