Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The Love flowed,
from hearts so sweet.
From the void is nothing,
love lives in the street.
I prayed to God,
help me back on my feet,
but it's over.

She said she loved me,
but she did not care.
Her thoughts with me,
she would not share,
And now she sits,
in her liars chair,
but it's over.

True feelings surfaced now,
and dredged my heart,
with hate so cold,
it tore us apart,
the anger and the fear,
thrown like a dart,
but it's over.

My heart can't hate,
my mind won't avoid,
the love that was,
is now destroyed.
Sweet memories remain,
that can not be enjoyed.
And it's over.

very sad....why is there often in one's life, that pain that comes from a place that was once so nurturing ?

The sadness, like the joy, runs deeper this time of year. The poem doesn't reflect the season but I wonder if he season spurred the writing of the poem.

Maybe the only wise (hopefully not wise-guy) thing is to remind you that the still stinging emotional hurts of the present eventually lessen, get better----maybe there will always be a scar but the wound will heal some.