Poet’s Lament

Just one more time, they sang to me.
Just one more time, I said.
Just one more time, and then we’ll leave;
then you can go to bed

I sang again the tired song,
I know I sang it well,
but just the same it came out wrong;
I knew I broke the spell.

Repeated words had lost their zing;
repeated words had died.
Yet knowing this, I had to sing.
They left and then I cried.

1 Comment

  1. Very eerie! Wish I knew what it meant. Breaking a spell would seem to be good–seem to defeat those preying on you. Not sure.


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