
‘He stuck rigidly to the structure, would consider no flexibility.’
~ Telling tales Ann Cleeves
Make your life a poem.

‘He stuck rigidly to the structure, would consider no flexibility.’
~ Telling tales Ann Cleeves

Your eyes are
full of love.
Who are you?
Who am I
to love you?
My face is
full of pain
© W. Donovan
I’ve come here
to find my serenity
in the solitude of my soul.
I don’t want to think
about you anymore.
Don’t want to think if
our love would last an eternity.
Was there even love?
I’m not sure
if I can call it love.
A spark so sharp
to pierce me through
not growing further
to flames
for it was blew out
and never it shall be lit again.
What’s left now?
I’ve longed for something
I’ve never had.
A fantasy of love
I wanted to feel
I wanted to have
I dreamt of.
I’ve come here
to finally say goodbye.
© W. Donovan


Drifting away

You want me to come home
What is a home?
For you
For me
it’s where my heart is
Not where my heart is
buried under the ground
of your monarchy
You want me to come home
Not because you love me
but because you feel alone
Not because you want me there
but because you hear the whispers
Which tell you
you shouldn’t have done
all the things you had done
You want me to come home
where the walls echo
how rotten you really are
Was it a home?
© W. Donovan
Would you like to see
me fall into the abyss
and bear this burden
which I cannot?
…
Would you like to see
how flabby it is
and dies in my arms?
© W. Donovan