love really does die when you allow it to
and all for an end that could not be seen
when days were brighter and warmer then
after the numbness that already settles in
and no one wants to stop and see it arrive
or the aftermath when it had taken its toll
and it is then when you begin to see things
that you never knew could possibly exist
when the memory of love kept hurting you
in ways you could never have imagined
even if they no longer remain in your life
or do anything now to keep you reminded
I know they say that no one dies from love
but I have found that is not really true at all
for when love dies a little of you dies too
an emptiness that never really goes away
and the things that could have been, die
among the tattered leaves of last autumn
and in the faint bubbles of another spring
all the words that were spilled on a page
only echo in the back of someone’s mind
for we only know that is was still growing
and we had to suddenly kill what we had
to become the victim of our own hearts
If it dies then I questions its reality. Or perhaps it doesn't really die, just morphs to another form. If we neglect it then it will most likely change. Thought provoking and bittersweet Amor.
I know they say that no one dies from love
but I have found that is not really true at all
for when love dies a little of you dies too
an emptiness that never really goes away
I completely agree. Thank you, Amor. Love and peace to you,
sO TRUE AND touching, we see this happen around us so often.There is this real story here in Mumbai which happened a year back of a young lady getting murdered by he building watchman when she resisted rape. Within a year after the crime her fiancee became a mental case and also succumbed. Good write. JKRoseline
I can't tell you how beautiful this is. Your poetry reaches this reader deeply because you have written it all right here. So eloquently. So many of us will identify with tears.
Merry Christmas and Blessings always Amor,
Christine
The faint bubbles of another spring...enlighten the heart
yet...beautifully penned Amor.
Lady Mary Ann
Your poem is certainly very melancholy. "When a lovely thing dies, smoke gets in your eyes."
Ron
Love ya!
Jane
poignant, heartfelt read
m
but I have found that is not really true at all
for when love dies a little of you dies too
an emptiness that never really goes away
I completely agree. Thank you, Amor. Love and peace to you,
Regis
Merry Christmas and Blessings always Amor,
Christine