Category: Poetry

You hit your midlife crisis And chose to turn aside A detour as a wife denied What you craved, this Is the new path decided A rougher road With new companions Abandoning The past and Losing our future.

Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee. That is how you ripped The heart out of me.

Take pity on the poor poet For he is doing the best he can To woo you.

Love is not what you take But what you give up To get better.

You are operating from Infatuation and lust As opposed to Mature love.

You live your life on the surface Where everything is about appearance While I live in the depths Under the pressure Where things must be fundamentally strong To survive being crushed.

I sit in the rain, the drops on my screen. From the skies, or my eyes?

Your lies are Infinite And void is your Soul, No Light survives In that black hole.

As the mist rises from the road, As I stroll aimlessly with a purpose, Things are clearer in the predawn Than in the dark of my soul, Wrestling with your decisions.

Everything you say is a lie. Everything you do, Your entire world is a lie. And under it all a scared little girl Terrified of being alone With the voids in your heart And still I reach out. Only to be rejected For telling the truth.