Move On Poem by Edward Clapham

Move On



Move on, they say to me, move on;
But they don't give easy directions and where do I go?
I know what I'm leaving, except you left
Long ago, and are now far away, though you live
Just down the road.

Moving, that's the go of it, moving;
Even though motion takes effort, and a sense of purpose
And I have none, and sense escapes me;
My only purpose to think endlessly about you and why,
Why you, and why me.

Thinking, aye there's the rub, like Hamlet
I think too much, endless circles of hope and despair,
Repetition of your words of farewell, thoughts that
Stir the mental ache, the visceral struggle to find meaning
To bring acceptance and move on.

Thoughts and movement, moving and thinking;
I looked into my future and saw a million moments with you,
Someone to love, something to hope for,
A journey to take hand in hand, movement towards
Not moving away, you from me.

Move on, they say, and don't write so much,
Though words heal my hurt, but bring little understanding,
No insight into you, your thoughts,
What brought you to say 'I realise I don't want a relationship',
Yet once thought you did.

Move on, to somewhere else or someone else;
Someplace where there are not so many reminders of you,
Someone else who can say Boo! and
Make me feel the centre of their world, important to them
And wanted, someone loved.

Moving on, little by little, away from you;
Movement resisted, unwanted, out of fear or love I know not,
Always with the emptiness and desperation
To see you again, and the anxiety that we shall coincide
In time and space, unexpectedly.

Move on and let go, yet always
The question why? For which no answer comes, other than
This is life, to be lived out,
And each moment sucked dry of its meaning, enjoyment,
Sadness, so that living itself is understood.

Friday, December 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: separation
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