This is a sample poem from my first book, "All my masks"
On Sunday night, I didn't hear
A single word you said, I fear
I must confess that I was wrong
I spoke to you through that last song
As if the only person here
I mumbled to you, words unclear
And, wishing I could disappear
I hid myself among the throng
On Sunday night
I murmured folly in your ear
And talked across your thoughts with mere
Nothings, in moments that belong
To silent prayer, did not stay long
But went and drowned my thoughts in beer
On Sunday night
(c) Edward Rhodes (2011)
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