The Hungry Poet

AMITIES

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Was it so hard to accept my love

That you had to hurt me?

Was it so horrible being subjected to it

That you tore it from me?

Could you not stand in the mess you’d made

Without tearing me down with you?

It was too much for you to conceive –

An undying, unconditional love

You wanted to kill it

Well my dear sadistic toy

You killed it well – my congratulations!

You poor, sad creature

Scared of the ropes and chains of commitment

Proud of your ability to scar

Reversal of the pain is the norm

You may crush the hearts of those who wane below you

But it builds the spirit and soul

Turns lovers into enemies

Forms might of the weak

You poor, sad, lonely man

Believe what you will

You are no greater than man

For the sun shines without you

Rivers sprawl through towns, ignorant of your futile existence

You are only – in your form – capable of a creation called love

Capable of a destruction called hate.

Venomous viper of contempt

Your hiss alone dictates pain.

So much good turned so vile.

Poor, sad, lonely man

You scarred the lover

But as scars fade through time

Distances grow.

My scared little Rodent

Run from your trap

For I am the Eagle whose wings have spread

I am taking flight

You shall never meet my likes again

Never pull me into your dreams.

My fevered little Rat

Turn your back on your life before

As her back has turned to you

And, as I leave you behind

I fear not for you – I fear not of you

You dark, murky lake, casting still and deep

Stirring for few

Wallowing in others drowning.

You hated me

But I am tall, I walk proud

And I am flying away

Goodbye.

You were a story in yourself

A weak, short story

And I can close the book

Why play with fire when your heart’s already burnt?

Why not just play in it?

Wild at heart or just in mind

Either way – you’re left behind.

Concussion, recurrence of a bad dream

Stitches – to tie up loose ends

Bruises – to add color to a grey day

And the loss of a very close friend.

Well my sorry little Wolfe,

Howl at the moon

I shall wear the wolves’ fur

My sorry little Wolfe

Howl once for me

The lament of the lonely

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