It is a sort of sport –
a mind game,
useless but also
giving strange
satisfaction –
I have you beg
and plead –
on bended knees –
for the love
you never wanted.
– James Steerforth ( © 2009 )
Aubades are poems begging and tempting and pleading with a lover not to leave. Since that hardly ever works anyway and has been written about far too often throughout the history of poetry, I’m offering another exercise … of similar futility.
Suitable for Totally Optional Prompts’ Aubade as well as Sunday Scribblings’ Sports.
Oooh, I like this! I hate what he does but the poem is great!
I like the clever weaving of thoughts here -
cleverly done1
I like the way you compare it with sports.
It is.
naisaiKuing
The ‘turn’ in this poem s brilliant. The whole has a very cold tone. G
Sport, it is. I never learned the rules. Good post…
Often the case – make it sound better than possible, and see the reaction. Of course, it always ends in tears.
Well done.