A Mystery To Me (Written July 29)

A Mystery To Me

 

What she thought of all I’d just said

Would remain a mystery, as so much

About her remained a mystery to me,

 

Since that most wretched day when she

Told me she didn’t want to see me

Anymore. She might not even open

 

My message and read it. I certainly

Didn’t expect a reply. It was like groping

In the dark every time I tried to talk

 

With her. If she was there, listening,

She was deathly quiet, ready to walk

The moment I came too near.

 

Time heals all wounds, they say,

But perhaps this was more serious

Than a wound. Perhaps it was

 

A permanent rift. How sad

That would be, for me. Because,

If true, I had lost what was dear.

2 thoughts on “A Mystery To Me (Written July 29)”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>