Too Weary Of Love.
Oh, I have faced the bars
that did not hold a glass
of black velvet, and a possibility
on the stool three seats down,
gazing at me only when I
was not returning the favor,
I have been incarcerated in
the dank hole of my soul,
facing the crossbars that
crucify us all at times,
gazing out from my lonely
hibernation as the world goes by,
too weary to even try to find
some solace in another's eyes,
too many tries and sighs without the
highs of love being returned.
Sometimes we are our own best companion,
commiserating with only our thoughts
and memories to soothe the seemingly
endless empty aches that eat like cancer
through the meet of our heart,
which seldom does meet another heart
in those months of monkhood,
worshipping the pain.
This Poem was inspired by Mickey Dees
An Ode To Prisoners Of Love!
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