How better to describe the
miserable futility
That goes into the making
of a broken heart?
The arduous task of stoking the
emotion
stirring the cauldron
with a thousand words writ down
The bleeding of one's heart
so the lines of poetry created
are so potent
they seem written in blood...
How else to describe continous
nights bent over notebook
pen in hand
to record and relive
moments of grief
To pitch oneself into the utmost
creative frenzy
and produce these modern
keening dirges of woe.
How else to describe the sickening
tenacity of love
and belieing in The One
only to see him walk away from you
and your love's labour
to see him lost
pledging his love to another
thanking you for all your work
For the love he gives her is
The love you taught him to feel,
The heart he lays at her feet
Is the heart you helped him to mold,
And the truth with which he embraces her
Is the one in which you taught him to believe?
How else to explain the irony?

06/19/2002

Posted on 06/19/2002
Copyright © 2025 Teri T Lahmon