Piker Press Banner
July 15, 2024


By Ann Christine Tabaka


Cold morning,
           you are now the compilation of my life.

Abandoned in my lone bed,
           the rejection is complete.

Daybreaks now
           a sorrowful time of disillusion.

As I count out the moments
           since we last combined.

Not mere moments, but months
           meld into years.

An endurance
           of sorrow and regret.

Relegated to the forgotten ...
                       I despise the night!

How the pain fills me with dreams
           of a yesterday when we still knew love.

           you are a cruel master,
                       you take away all treasures.

He is forever
           gone from my arms.

Cold morning.
                       How I miss your warmth.

Article © Ann Christine Tabaka. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-07-13
Image(s) are public domain.
3 Reader Comments
Sally Delancy
07:01:56 AM
I enjoyed reading this poem, Christine! It is well titled too. I especially loved the line, "Cold morning. How I miss your warmth"
Jill Sharon Kimmelman
07:05:47 PM
I love this poem, Christine!

My favorite line is definitely this one
you are a cruel master,
you take away all treasures

It has a universal theme...everyone can identify w/these feelings, from their own experience.

Well done, my friend????????????????✍️
09:02:15 AM
Poignant poem of an experience we may all have sooner or later, depending on how long we survive.
Your Comments

The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.