by Richard Vince
Despite assumptions, this is not
The ending I wanted for you.
Once all the futilities had been
Stripped away, my one remaining
Wish was to be wrong after all.
It would be easy to blame her, but
I planted the seed she watered:
The dark loam of my soul has
Long been fertile ground in which
Bitterness flourishes all too easily.
And now is the time we reap
The harvest: a shattered heart
From which gold is withheld
By a selfish miser who once disguised
Himself as a friend.
Hopefully, your real friends are real friends,
Ones you can trust to want the best
For you rather than whatever
It was I was after.
May they help you to see
The small joys that will always
Be there to be found; may they
Uphold you in the face of darkness
Until you can stand unaided again.
Posted on 05/29/2023
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince