To Have Loved Is To Have Grieved...
Why? I question myself. Why isn't
life going my way? Why must I
witness the refined, the foul, and
the unlovely? I used to believe I
was exceedingly happy. Oh how
unworthy and inane now I feel. They
say to have loved is to have lived.
No one claimed to have loved is to
have grieved. Love begins
beautifully I can not deny, but
like anything new, its marvel
depletes in time. What happens to a
blaze of fire when it looses its
spark? It wanes and becomes as
black as the dark. What's to become
of an elegant sunflower that's kept
with no sunlight? The petals wilt
and droop. Their delicate status is
no longer bright. So I state this,
and I voice it with mournful tears.
Experienced I am, to have loved is
to have grieved...
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