Open Poetry #48 |
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A final choice. |
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Walter Poe Senior Member
since 1999-10-13
Posts 787 |
She did not want me she never had. She lied not just to me but to herself. She wasted thought feeling and emotions. On the empty dreams of one such as I. Ah foolish youth. I did not wish it to be this way. I wished it to be honest and pure, but no. That strength of character can overide. That deed becomes-thought becomes-belief. at least almost. Now I see, not perhaps, too late, she feels. She feels, yes, but what she feels...nothing I almost did I almost pressed, poked, pushed. Yet it cannot be, I know, for I know myself A little too well. I have known all along, the pain was real The who was never her, it never could be. Yet I fooled myself into belief, I the fool. Almost I was ready to fool her but not. Love a lie. So I bury my ghosts, at least for a while. Beneath a shroud of empty words on air. I hide the emotions I do not feel for her. I will be a friend not because I must no... Because I choose. My final choice. Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read. |
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© Copyright 2013 Paul Weatherstone - All Rights Reserved | |||
katahdin Senior Member
since 2010-07-01
Posts 1196ME. In the Shadow of the Mt. |
Nicely done, enjoyed. Kat >^..^< |
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