As I lay this clichéd bouquet
Upon the heart shaped stone
I realize, these tears in my eyes
Are no one’s sins but my own


A mute soliloquy
In my loneliest of times
A vent for the misery
You with your simple rhymes

Yes, I have sad regret
You were turned away
Through this selfish neglect
You are part of yesterday


As I lay claim to this passé shame
Dim memories etched on stone
I’ll not again invoke your name
Your grave, dug on my own


I ignored the need
Allowed my heart to deny
As I released the dream
The passion slowly died

I let the music fade
And never said good-bye
It seems like such a waste
‘Til now, I never even cried


As I lay this withered roundelay
Upon this heart of stone
I understand, the blood on my hands
Is no one’s, but my own.


So rest in peace
Please, rest in peace
Sleep eternally
Rest in peace
Dear sweet poetry
You’re dead inside of me

© 2005 by Steve Giacomini