why so sullen, tongue,
oh poor lad, why so bleak?
work eats brave hearts
before it takes the meek.
they lie, there they lie
twisted for bells like coming winter
nakeder than four men poor
who sleep with one lonely whore.
were my masters not
straight glory on their steeds?
did trumpets say more
than truth of their deeds?
they lie, there they lie
twisted for bells like coming winter
nakeder than one girl thin,
afraid of four grateful men,
nakeder than four men less
asleep than all loneliness.
Author notes
Yeah, I just had the experience of being the "other" woman although it wasn't in a sexual relationship. The "brave hearts" are dreams or hopes.
A contest entry
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5000 points, ended February 27, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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this is very good. :-)


