Soon

source

The coffee was black,

Darker than the night sky

And as bitter as 

A broken heart.

My heart was broken,

Shards still embedded 

In my chest and

I refused to remove them.

Somehow, the pain

Had become a knowing

Companion, a necessary

Friend who would listen

As I told my tale over

And over again.

When others grew tired

Of my ranting and raving

The pain would listen,

But soon even that

Started to fade into 

A dull ache.

So with a cup of

Black, bitter coffee

And a broken heart

On the mend, I sat

At my typewriter 

And started to 

Release the last of 

My pain.

With each strike

Of the key, 

The pain became one

With the words,

With the paper,

With everything

That was outside of me.

With each strike

Of the key,

I let the pain go,

Saying fairwell

To a friend who

Knew me well.

Soon the cup

Will be empty,

Soon my heart

Will be healed,

Soon the pain

Will be a distant memory,

And soon life

Will return to the

Thing we call normal.


Submitted to Hyde Park Poetry's Thursday Poets Rally.