Torn Pages

Torn Pages

A Poem by Phill Oz O'fee
"

Memory delete ......

"

Torn Pages




Once upon a love

You wrote your words

Across my hapless heart


All lines a caress

Each paragraph held hope

Messages were kept alive


I keep a diary

Of all your promises

Believing in your truths


Penned in golden ink

A record of ardour

Read over and again


Twas not to be

You hide a secret

I could not see


This day of shock

Came all to soon

You found another’s favour


So I tore out

The good time pages

Throwing into burning fire


Phillozofee @ 2017

© 2017 Phill Oz O'fee


Author's Note

Phill Oz O'fee
Someone mentioned my words were too complicated - so I'm trying a very sparingly short lined write ... :-)

My Review

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Featured Review

Re. your Author's note: Why dilute the YOU in your writing. If you wrote a nursery rhyme you'd turn it into an epic because you can.. and that's what is expected of you.

As to your poem - disillus ionment is a sadness that runs through life as a Summer's ros y day runs into an Autumnal flood. Surely one's diary is a book of spell s - warts,toad s and all - then, used til one recalls THE spells forgotten! Perhaps.

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

J.J. NIGHTINGALE

7 Years Ago

LOL..............:)............................
Phill Oz O'fee

7 Years Ago

Lets have a group "HUG" .... I feel much better now! :-)
emmajoy

7 Years Ago

Laughing! Now to step into glorious Darzet sunshine!



Reviews

You wrote your words
Across my hapless heart

mmmm many a times... happens they write and forget what they were writing hehe :)
sad but very relatable poem.. :)

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I can imagine the heartbreak but love if true can return in time. simply composed yet good.

lovely writing style

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

and maybe the remnants of the words burned in that fire might light another fire.
good times, bad times...leftover ashes of the past.

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

An excellent condensed version of you Phill, but I miss and prefer the original version...my opinion, that said, eloquent and dramatic poem- the "record of ardour" transfigured by a lover's betrayal, well and passionately penned. We burn the pages, but the memories linger...Yes!

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I agree, you should write in your own natural way , not in the way others dictate.
And the poem... oh so sad, torn pages and a torn heart.
They say that to throw hurt and anxiety into a fire , whether real or imagined is very healing... it helps you to move on and leave the ashes behind..

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Re. your Author's note: Why dilute the YOU in your writing. If you wrote a nursery rhyme you'd turn it into an epic because you can.. and that's what is expected of you.

As to your poem - disillus ionment is a sadness that runs through life as a Summer's ros y day runs into an Autumnal flood. Surely one's diary is a book of spell s - warts,toad s and all - then, used til one recalls THE spells forgotten! Perhaps.

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

J.J. NIGHTINGALE

7 Years Ago

LOL..............:)............................
Phill Oz O'fee

7 Years Ago

Lets have a group "HUG" .... I feel much better now! :-)
emmajoy

7 Years Ago

Laughing! Now to step into glorious Darzet sunshine!
Some times don't last
Some lives won't mesh
Some ink..bleeds
Some hearts grow cold...

Interesting.......:)....

Jazzy

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Phill Oz O'fee

7 Years Ago

Some times so true ...
Thank you for your review .... :-)
J.J. NIGHTINGALE

7 Years Ago

You are welcome...:).....

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7 Reviews
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Added on August 25, 2017
Last Updated on August 25, 2017

Author

Phill Oz O'fee
Phill Oz O'fee

Winchester, Hampshire, England, United Kingdom



About
I am caught in a time spiral of confusion; that period we all experience between birth and death. Somewhere inside hides a poet, writer, lyricist and/or whatever, laying dormant and suppressed by s.. more..

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