Please _leave _a _message _after _the _beep…

Beeeeep!

Hello, It’s me.
Where are you? It’s three.
Anyways, here it goes,
I’m tired, and it shows.

It’s over,
we’re through,
and this time its true,
as true as the colors of your blows.

The attraction is gone.
You’re reserved and withdrawn.
There’s no flame, just cold
and this feeling, so old.

I needed to feel needed,
wanted and seeded,
in love.

Out of love, with you -
There, I’ve said it,
its over, we’re through
and this time its true,
as true as the colors of your blows.

Beeeeep!

This poem was written in response to an email I received from Marcus McCann, the editor of theonionunion.com.He requested that I and others attempt to create poetry, music, video, photography, illustrations, performance projects, crafts, baked goods, or another type of artistic effort based from his Dream Journal. The poem I wrote here was based off his dream entry number 5.