To Do What? (poem) by Mark M Lichterman on AuthorsDen

To Do What?
by Mark M Lichterman → (All Poetry by Mark M Lichterman)
Rated "G" by the Author.

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To do What? Do I pretend to love the woman I have? Do I pretend to love the woman within my arms? Do I pretend to love the woman I know loves me? Do I love the woman of my dreams, that, pretending not necessary, I know I love? Though my dream is no further than my fingers to this key board. And though she answers me in kind, for I know she loves me, as she knows I love her, but a life together? So we both well know, can never be. I’ve spent the years of my life doing what I thought I should do, doing what I thought I must do. I’ve spent the years of my life saying what I thought I should say, saying what I thought I must say. But now as I grow older... No, I must say that now I am older and, of course this is part of our problem, her and mine. For she is not old, at least many years from the age of myself. To do what? For I know I love her, this woman of my dreams. For I know she loves me, yet... We’ve never truly seen one or the other. Yet... Her hand has never been held within mine. Yet... Our lips have never touched. Yet... Our bodies have never met, other, of course, then in our spoken dreams. Yet... Yet? Do I pretend to love the woman I have? Do I pretend to love the woman within my arms? Do I pretend to love the woman I know loves me? Do I feel what I think I should feel for this woman I have? Do I say what I think I should say to this woman I have? Is what is left of my life to be hollow, untrue words? Is what is left of my life to be hollow, untrue emotion? Yet... This woman loves me. This woman I have truly loves me.

Reviewed by Kathleen McDonald

Reviewed on August 19, 2009

A very emotional and thoughtful work. Love can be many ways. What is love for one may not be for another.

Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner

Reviewed on August 15, 2009

Powerfully penned, Mark - undone by the tears in these lines -

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

Reviewed by Carole Mathys

If you substitute and lie to yourself and others, you hurt the innocent one...but what you do to yourself is unforgiveable...just make a choice and move on...heart-tugging write, Mark

Carole~

Reviewed by Elizabeth Russo

This is an extremely emotive piece, Mark. How does one 'pretend' love? I think when you care for another person, no matter the relationship, it is a form of love. Perhaps it may not be a tender, romantic kind of love, but love nonetheless. Enjoying anothers companionship, their smile, their disposition, their beliefs and ideals, their ability to laugh and overcome ... all these count for love. I feel it is tragic, though, not to be with the one you truly love or are in love with ... but you would not be the first that this has happened to and likely you will not be the last. So many long for one another from a distance knowing it can never be and so they allow the love to live in their hearts. You truly poured your heart out in this one, my friend. I feel your pain. ~Lizzie

Reviewed by Georg Mateos

Telling all the truth all the time is very overrated, truth can and will hurt much more than white lies will ever do.
Love, that unspeakable thing for some, have the knack to come knocking on forbidden doors for the heck of it?
You don't need to fell off love, jut the love you thing you had became old, routine inert, the flames gone but the coals left behind until caprice comes along with a new flames of love to ignite them and make trouble for everybody.
That's love to you, somebody should strangle the damn thing.

Georg

Reviewed by Karen Palumbo

Reviewed on August 14, 2009

My goodness, I can feel the anguish that torments your soul as you bring this all to life...

Be always safe,
Karen

Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart

Oh Lord what a predicament. Reminds me of the country song "The hardest thing I ever had to do was holding her while loving you." So sad and ofen when we are older we question our purposes and path in life and continuing to live it for everyone but ourselves. A poignant write, I feel your pain.