been so, once or twice before.
I can tell ya the truth,
although it may hurt,
any answers my friend
come from the same old questions
rendering, not what you expect
or even what your dreams foretold.
you; always waiting for an opportunity
to reap what I have sowed
I'll be leaving soon
but not right this minute
it's either too late or too early,
but I'll tell you one more story.
how aspirations have let me down
while I plant these seeds of sadness
in this desiccated, rock hard ground
always watering and waiting
for fortification from their growth
I try to see where you are now.
no longer manipulating
the arrow from Cupid's bow
he never could shoot straight
his aim, horrendous!
red shoes click on the yellow brick road
as I walk
its ends.
at a thorny wall
as high as my dreams grew
fantasy catapults me over as
real life brings a screeching halt,
the truth slowly seeping in,
lovers fading quickly to the past,
the seeds I planted
rot instead of grow
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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