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  • Lost Love

    untitled

    As I sit and think of our life
    I sit and remember you as my wife
    I sadly drift back into those days
    I never accepted the parting of our ways
    Why did you dessert me
    Why did you knowingly hurt me
    Did you forget our words of trust
    And left me after 11 years for lust
    I am mad, sad and disappointed in you
    I am hurt, lonely and missing us too
    I am hopeful then comes the resentment
    I am angry then angrier then I sadly repent
    The seas are vast
    Our memories as equal from the past
    I thought our love was as endless as the stars
    As many as my heart now has scars
    Thanks for loving me
    Thanks for making me sad
    Thanks for blinding me
    Thanks for making me hurt so bad
    I am ill tempered, ill willed, because you left
    Now an enemy for the reason you'd expect
    How does one deal with love that they never wanted to leave
    I can't figure that out but figured that's why people grieve
    I was wide open and unprotected
    You destoyed me when you defected
    I think I am whole but would be flawed if inspected
    You carved me up like a skillful surgeon
    Cut me in so many pieces and disected
    You knew I was on the brink
    of going under like a ship who shouldnt sail
    But whose body couldn't handle the crashing waves
    and ultimately must go under and fail
    I don't have the habit of heavy drinking
    but have the habit of heavy thinking
    How often do I envision you
    About as many times as one is blinking
    So now I am half the man
    who can't walk or even stand
    I guess its because I wander without your hand
    i get up but on my ass is where I always land
    Didn't you feel bad at all
    Didn't you flinch as you watched me continually fall
    Couldn't you help me from my pathetic crawl
    You saw me sleeping in the park
    You came by and left with tears as I laid down dirty in the dark
    You were the executioner
    I was your mark
    but still I never attacked
    I was a player in a game where the cards were all stacked
    If pleasure is measured by smiles
    My agony should be measured by my daily deniles
    while my road to recovery is bound by infinite miles and miles
    Thanks for destroying me
    I feel as if these were personal crimes while toying with me
    It took its toll but I am finally seeing
    Who I loved what something other than a loving being

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    geenasdream commented on untitled

    08-19-2009

    very interesting,and imaginative,great choice of adjectives, and obviously you were either in pain when you wrote that..and i actually felt the pain and the sadness..

    Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

    Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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