It knows not that there is always
a high price to pay, a price too hefty to reimburse.
It is quick to sink deep in the possibility
of the tingling feelings of love…or whatever this thing is called.
Brought back even quicker to the pits
of gloom when things return to normal.
Sorry folks…no fairytale here, no
happy-ending…moving right along.
Go back to the normal routine of
waiting, the norm in waiting has never disappointed.Now with the slight speckle of hope this silly organ had taken in destroyed…it’s returned to its usual coop and left to lick its wounds.
Serves it right for initiating its
own destiny…there is no use blaming the world…when it is the world it longs and
lusts for.
Look no more in the eye of man…look
no more in the eye of the unsure and hasty.
The future for this heart awaits
and it sure has no space for baggage and burden.
Repairs to this organ takes time…precious
time that must not be interrupted.
Its offender has offered no mercy
and remains unaffected by their deeds dished out.
“Cut them some slack” reason
says, “Well just do yourself a favour and forget it all” reality adds.
Etched memories appear far
clearer, feelings way stronger are pulling more intensely.
It must be terrible to have to rebuild
the cemented plans and ideas of what could be.
It is disheartening waking up to
a sloppy morning… and then have possibilty for the day dashed.
Amidst the horrors of old falls
and new births my eyes pant for a lush field of hope but none seems available,
all the prosperous arenas of expectation have either been used to death or left
for the scavengers.
Is there any way of mending the
epitome of sensitivity, and to move to a much better place of unity of souls
and hearts…glued with the genuineness of what really speaks to the depths of
their unseen worlds.
How to do you speak when no ears
are listening, when no eyes are willing to find out and discover…
Rather don’t leave any insincerity
or issues of mistrust in others’ areas of thought…
Hold high the golden rare personalities
they carry and have them stapled onto your train of thoughts.Leave the minds’ cubicles and hold no grasp to the plans I have, remove your mark from my soul and carry no hold to my future.
Tell your story of destruction and watch in awe as your heart unfolds and there’s a remake of your destiny.
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