The Watcher

He became a watcher of her time, over seeing her wishes.
Conscientious of her hard work,   distracting her decisions.

Total resentment bursting at the seams.

Protesting aspects of her wisdom, harboring revisions, to her dreams.

His dedication to reasoning, 

left long ago. 

Now he seeks happiness, 

in clipping her wings, ruffling her feathers, criticizing all actions, 

and killing her pleasure’s. 

He found his peace, 


going against her smile. 

In the past, he’d cried for her, 

say he’d die for her, 

even search the world, 

walking desert miles, to her.

He smells her ambition, 

as she hold’s it quite tightly.

While disregarding her prayer’s, interrupting them nightly.

Dashed hope and wishes that never reached his undestined stars, 

he’s left standing still, 

watching, hers

bitterly, scarred.

It certainly changed him into the joystealing, energy zapping, unhappily ever after, 

a frustrated disastrous left turn, 

into oncoming traffic, 

a one man army, 

bitterly standing alone, 

looking for new ways, 

to add dismay to her zones.

He watched her eyes, 

even as they held a sore spot

to his healing. 

Offering assistance giving her best, even an ear, 

she used to love him so dearly, 

until his watchful eyes became, unapologetic and very unappealing.

Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore

Thinker on the Loose

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