deepundergroundpoetry.com
the end of it all
Across the dinner table you stand
With your arms crossed against your chest
You tell me you've had enough
That you will not take another stab.
Everything around us goes flying away
The table, the chairs, all the silverware,
Nothing's left behind or underneath,
And all you are able to say is that nothing's fair.
I tried to warn you my dear
That this was not meant to be from the beginning,
But you cared not to listen
So now we're dying alone, in this dark room.
With your arms crossed against your chest
You tell me you've had enough
That you will not take another stab.
Everything around us goes flying away
The table, the chairs, all the silverware,
Nothing's left behind or underneath,
And all you are able to say is that nothing's fair.
I tried to warn you my dear
That this was not meant to be from the beginning,
But you cared not to listen
So now we're dying alone, in this dark room.
Published 1st Jun 2014
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Anonymous
1st Jun 2014 10:00pm
One of you needs to get away from the other in this gloomy scenario of a poem. Enough is enough, descriptive it is.
2nd Jun 2014 2:11am
Not much of an actual scenario, but a metaphocic observation of my roommate's mos current situation. Thanks for the read!
