September

The Hamptons are dark at night,

I was walking alone on the beach,

The waves were black,

My cheeks were stained.

Everything in your bedroom was wicker.

Only the bed, the sheets, your sweat wasn’t wicker.

But your heart was stone, and you were missing,

You were empty, you were nothing.

I was not perfect, I was not you,

I was me.

Okay, I was a fool,

Fine, you made me cry,

At least I am still able.

I was there with you, but you were gone,

I doubt you ever existed.

You may have tricked me,

But you're far too smart to ever trick yourself.

Reviews

[nostal]

I was a fool.

[Clockwork]

The images are my favorite part about this poem, especially the ones in reference to the bedroom. One of the things that makes a poem truly vivid is the images and how they draw the reader into the world of the writing. You have done that hear, and I felt like I walked down that dark beach and saw the scene in the bedroom. That takes some skill. Then you have the hard-hitting emotional commentaries that close this poem out and make it even stronger. Well done!

[Patrick Henry]

A beautiful little mystery. Not you... lol ...the poem!! I know of the Hamptons, near where I live, and have gone to a few parties that had houses that looked like castles. This poem feels like a solitary romance.... almost as if the target for your distress is imaginary, and exists only only when there is turmoil or some sort of emotional response to something familiar. Walking alone on the beach at night..... so awesome, and never said enough in ANY poem!! Beautiful Amy D. Brooks. xoxo -Mark

[zainul]

Sounds like something divine.
Well done.

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

Okay, I was a fool,

Fine, you made me cry,

At least I am still able.

I was there with you, but you were gone,

I doubt you ever existed.

You may have tricked me,

But you're far too smart to ever trick yourself.

You set your real heart into that Poem , I love your words , yes you still able to cry , you are lucky