deepundergroundpoetry.com

What's That You Said To Me?

What’s that you said to me, why would you say that to a man of 23? I understand your words but I just don’t know, why you’d say that when you’re so old. Your face is wrinkled, withered and pained, makes me wonder, what you expect to gain. Holding my hand like you know who I am, please tell me dear, or did you not listen or can’t hear.

Maybe I’m dreaming I think to myself, why are you here and why did you say those words, please tell me now, they sound so absurd. I can’t say them back to you because I can’t speak, but I can hear and see and even think. Even if I could they would be so wrong, loving another when I’ll be gone.

You see, I already have a love, she’s also 23. When I get back from this war she will be right here, waiting for me. Her face is young and bright, her eyes set aglow and if there is one thing I  know. She’s not like you, she’s beautiful and so bright, her starry eyes even light up the night.

Now please let go my hand, I must leave to another land. The soldiers need me for their fight, the bombs bursting all through the night. I can’t move if you hold me down, I must help the tattered men on the ground. I must hurry so I can come home, to see my young love and hold her hand.

What’s that you said to me, I don’t understand your uncommon courtesy. Your hands feel so warm holding mine, if only my love was around. She would hold them too, kiss my lips and hold me tight, help me make it through this terrible fight.

You see old lady, I have this disease, I don’t remember much, but I do know what’s shady. You holding my hand telling me all these things, still I ask, what’s to gain. Why are you here and what do you want, smothering me with all your hugs and making me feel so taunt.

What’s that you said to me, you’ll stay for eternity. Why would you do that when I don’t need you here, besides my love is somewhere near. She will take care of me I know, even when I grow old. She will always be my side, she’s told me that a million times.

Now if you pardon me I must go, please let go of my chair and take your fingers from my hair. Don’t hold me back I say to you, I have to leave and you must too. I have to help the men on the shore and get back to where I was before.

What’s that you said to me, why would say that to a man of 23?
Written by Darkstreets
Published
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