A Promise

Poem By Elizabeth Haasch

Another night alone dear
as I wait for the sound of a ring through the silent air.
Sitting, waiting, watching it just there.
You’ll call one day and then I won’t be ready
I won’t be waiting, I won’t be wishing it were you.
You tell me day after day it will come it will I promise.
Promise.
What is that?
A world so twisted on promises
I can’t even see the truth any longer.
Walking a street is not the same.
Singing a tune that is monotone.
It’s just another lonely day here.
Waiting and wishing for one promise to be made.
I still wish I still dream every night
that you would come to the surface.
Why won’t you say, tell, feel.
You don’t believe in love
then what is this game we are play?
Not played with a board or pieces
but with my heart and life.
Will you keep dragging it on and just pretend.
What is this game?

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I’m sick of the madness.
The hoping for more than you’ll ever have.
The antique hearts rusting away
like a carousel that’s never be ridden.

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Here I sit my dear
trying to explain to you this situation I am in.
this is now a phrase with so much meaning.
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So as I am sitting here screaming out in pain.
Walking on egg shells.
Walking on broken glass
wondering how to tell you

Why

Why I sit here in the dark.
Why I do the things I do.
Why is a question that keeps running through my head.
The tears flowing free like a stream of welled up thoughts of us.

Meaningless Tragedy

This sweet sorrow
this meaning of tragedy.

Again I question.