by Elisabeth Barstowe
Friday, January 14, 2011
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Fake it til we make it
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My foolish mind
made a reality of it's own kind.
It took what wasn't true
and assigned it all to you.
I believed in the picture you painted of you
the perfect man I believed it true .
I made you loving and able
truthful and stable.
I gave you strength of will
and a peaceful mind so still.
When what I gave you didn't add up
I added yet a measure of innocence to your cup.
As the world treated you unfair
I gave you my strength to share.
By doing so I magnified all your illusions
until one day reality made it's intrusion.
On the image I built of my dream
of you the way I wanted you to seem.
I remembered stories told
that didn't match once unfold.
I remembered promises you gave
that never came through in any way.
You blamed failure on all but you
suffered anxiety attacks as I held you.
You shifted blame and do it still
while my strength you slowly kill.
I'm turning in to her, the one you left behind.
As I try to sort out your mind.
I try to stay on my own two feet
though tempting it is with defeat.
I want to be able to reconstruct as I go
to avoid blaming you so.
But I lost that power with my belief in you
now I don't think a word you say is true .
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|Reviewed by Sheila Roy
Nice depth to this poem. I think as women, we must always be careful not to get swallowed up by another. I like how you show the progression of this situation, and how enough can be enough, even for the strongest person.
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|BEAUTIFUL, VERY TALENTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
the sense of betrayal is strong and justifiably so in these well-constructed lines.
|Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
|A sad revelation when the light of truth and wisdom shines and you see through new eyes...
Be always safe,
|Reviewed by Amor Sabor
|You may see things you may not wish to see but the heart always wins|
|Reviewed by Diana Wiles
|They say love is blind...it is natural to want to believe and see the best in those we love, but eventually the reconstruction becomes so bizaarre we hardly recognise them ourselves...The problem then is..what to do next?...
Love and hugs, Diana...
|Reviewed by Mary Lacey, Desertrat
Wonderful. Sometimes it's so hard to want to believe a loved one's faults. We often turn a blind eye, as you've so eloquently expressed.
|Reviewed by Lois Christensen
|I do not like people who lie either, and i have been around plenty.|