I feel incomplete
without him, now.
Though not in any way
I’ve felt before.
Just a little back-flip
in the bloodstream
And complete ease
in his company.
He is like a comma,
Or a semicolon;
but not life-threatening.
He offers me a polish
My days a rhythm.
He is the choreography
to my speech,
The music to my lyric,
The map to my meandering.
A steadiness that rolls
Yet, grants me time.
As the pause within
My frenzied spattering,
He does not take my breath away.
He gives it back to me.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Pause by Emily Dawn )
- Cost Less, stephen awuni
- My Past Governs Me, Ian Paisnel
- Mind's Heart, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Unrest Soul: Imperfection, Onyekachukwu Vincent Onyeche
- OVER THE TOP, Donald R Charon
- Supernova, Herman Dexter
- Ho Hum, Michael McParland
- Backbone Of A Nation, Joseph T. Renaldi
- Vertigo, Nassy Fesharaki
- Worthy Expressions, Joseph T. Renaldi
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(22 March 1941 -)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)