Any bed
that has bled
what was two down
to one is a sad
place to lay
The hollow
in one's soul
often matches
the hollow
in one's bed
to their left,
which is never right,
or to their right
where one they love has left
and even when it is
for a righteous reason
someone will
still have left,
and the morning after
is the mourning after
what has gone,
and what is gone
comes after
what has come
and then
is gone again,
and the hollow
in ones soul,
or in his or her
fondest hopes
is a bottomless pit,
into which we
tumble when alone,
and flail at
the falling,
then wail
at the failing
to keep it
all near us
night after,
morning after
ever after.....
seldom captured
and never rapture
when the side cherished
that lies closest to you
is a cold hollow
on a starched sheet
left emptied
in the morning....
The bitter
morning after pill
left far more than
a pregnant pause
It birthed an agony
In my soul that
Can never be
Totally healed
Collab with Art-Whimsically Yours Studio & Suno