Poetry: An Assemblage of Wrongs

An Assemblage of Wrongs

Departing a room,

in which we both breathe,

Inspiration smashes,

the heart inside of me.

Your humble brilliance,

like something contagious,

Invades my atmosphere,

shatters all obligations.

Questioning glances,

some ancient puzzle.

Perhaps it’s attraction,

in a kindred souls muddle.

I won’t try to quiet,

stentorian songs.

My soul is enraptured

in an assemblage of wrongs.  

-Lisa M. Bello

Poetry: For A Friend

For A Friend

I spoke of your journey,

On that fatal day.

Of how you left this life,

With no final say.

How far did you travel,

When you were out of your mind?

It’s been a decade,

 And no clue can I find.

You walked into the forest,

 And laid on the land.

Nothing but the void,

No note in your hand.

You left in a blizzard,

On St. Valentine’s Day.

Razors in your pockets,

For your life’s final play.

And was it soothing,

The cold on your skin?

Was it relieving,

The torment you were in?

Was your last vision,

a blanket white?

Or was it the tunnel,

that ends with the light? 

- Lisa M. Bello