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Us
by Heide McAlister-BatesWhen we first started this thing
we call love, we gave it
everything we had.
We rocked through the night on
rivers of sweat and sighs and
screams of passion that
woke the neighbours and
made dogs howl.
We loved hard - hard like boiled sweets,
and just as tasty.
You burned from your end of the candle,
and I burned from mine.
But love, like wax,
is a finite resource.
If you don't pay close attention
to it,
the flames meet in the middle
and it burns out.
Leaving nothing but a pool
of cold, hard regret. 10/31/2005 Author's Note: For every beginning, there is an end. I hope you find the happiness you seek.
Posted on 10/31/2005
Copyright © 2024 Heide McAlister-Bates
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Peter Humphreys on 11/01/05 at 05:49 PM Thank you, Heide. Everything must end but sometimes it can be so marvellous when the burning is just as intense but the meeting in the middle takes longer than you feared. Peter |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 11/03/05 at 05:33 PM Love can only sustain when its part of a greater understanding. It grows with the growth of the self and the other.Emotional love normally subsides in the course of time. |
| Posted by Rula Shin on 11/03/05 at 07:35 PM Your use of wicks burning at two ends is a perfect anaolgy for the charge of emotional love which cannot be sustained beyond emotions and has no where to go but OUT. Without a deeper understanding of the other and a proclivity to grow as they do in belonging, emotional love will turn with the tide, turning love to hate and friend to foe. A great metaphor indeed. |
| Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 12/09/05 at 04:42 PM A nice take on an ending. I'm looking for a really long candle ;o) |
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