The Welder

Francesca, what a chiffon name, 

I fibbed through time that I did not care, 

swallowed by a realization that came, 

he was the only voice that was always there. 

Francesca, welding what should have been mine, 

it was blurred thinking he would always wait, 

I promised him that words were in line, 

as he whisked away, a rebellious fate. 

Francesca, you can not do this to me,

acid wash the thought of one heart

that never left from the start. 

Francesca, he's different, that I swear to you, 

a color of blue unlike synthetics, 

or the sky too, that I always knew, 

bound together only by my goddamn aesthetics. 

Francesca, he moved on, f*****g moved on, 

to you and to a prettier pink, 

the streets do not agree, he's gone, 

only tonight have I stopped to think. 

Francesca, Francesca, eyes fiery, not mine, 

please, do not do this to me. 

You dripped plaster on the only smile

I ever saw when I closed my eyes for a while. 

Author's Note

For the guy that never knew how I felt.

Reviews

[ToneWolf]

Excellent poem in a classic format. I love the powerful emotion you have packed so beautifully into such a small space.

[Blank]

This is beautiful, I like the use of the name, the repetitiveness of it is really powerful. What I liked most about it was your tone, it's not bitter or jealous, just a graceful acceptance, sad but eloquent. Thank you for sharing!

[SquinklaPsyOps]

I really, really enjoyed it.

It is really well done. Great work.