I remember writing that villanelle
Walking blind through a well lit room
For I was stuck in my personal Hell
Trying hard to make sure no-one could tell
That the face I wore was a costume
Yes, I remember writing that villanelle
How long has it been since I was well?
My stone left still, unrolled, before my tomb
And I am stuck within my personal Hell
The higher I climbed, the harder I fell
It has been this way since I left the womb
When I first began writing that villanelle
The greater the pain, the less I would yell
Eager instead for silence to resume
I remember writing that villanelle
For I was stuck in my personal Hell
2019©DSCoremans
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