nobody wins -
How can a love,
When it fits like a glove,
Go from a quarrel to end?
Well, it sometimes unravels
When one of you travels,
And loneliness seeks out a friend.
If I'd only known
That you weren't my own,
I might have remembered to hold
The hours of sand
That seeped through my hand,
Instead of the glass, ever cold.
See, I then believed
That my absence was grieved,
My return given weight I thought due,
Yet I didn't grasp
Your needs with a clasp
That endeavored our bond to be true.
Beleaguered, I left,
A house then bereft
Of solid endowment below,
Those words, in attack,
We can never take back,
Like arrows set loose from a bow.
'Tis said, when apart,
That heart longs for heart,
And absence will winnow the fires,
But when I returned,
The embers that burned,
Were guaranteed only to liars.
I must now intend
That I destined to end,
The breath of my proxy, in rage,
But the voice of a child
At once calmed the wild,
And let loose my ire from its cage.
I wish I could blame,
But I did the same,
And sold you on stories divine,
Yes, you spun some fables,
But were just turning tables,
As I set the standard with mine.
Now I look back, anon,
At the life that is gone ...
'Twas a sad lover's quarrel, though just,
But a house built of size
On a bedrock of lies,
Is a foundation best turned to dust.
You see, lies that are lost,
Always bring a high cost,
And we both kept a share of that quarry,
But I hold naught but mirth,
And for what it is worth,
From the depths of my heart ...
I AM sorry.
** TENTH PLACE in the "Lover's Quarrel Poetry Contest", Lewis Reynes, Sponsor **
|