I am trying this bref double form,
Which is French, so it’s confusing,
Like extra vowels flung onto words,
And how we never had Paris.
I could write from night until morn,
Be witty, risqué, and amusing,
But it wouldn’t matter in the slightest,
Or turn a no into a kiss.
These three lines don’t have to rhyme;
I can do whatever I want!
Yet it all feels empty without you…
I’ve stared too long into the abyss.
My café au lait has been served lukewarm;
I can’t help but feel I am losing.
Poetry form: bref double (thanks to Donna for introducing it to me).
Image is mine.
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