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You Dared to Cross

Updated on August 4, 2013
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In relationships, unless you are young, you have baggage. The trick to maintaining a lasting relationship, is to find someone with baggage you can accept and deal with.

You Dared to Cross

By Tony DeLorger © 2013

Dare to cross that line with me,

and there's no turning back,

no arbitrary change of mind,

just the recompense,

of inevitable irresolution,

and the dark abyss,

of losing what you intended.

Dare to find solace

in this open heart,

and you will find

the root of your own evil,

if your heart is not as mine.

You will find blame,

anger, displacement,

all from your cold place,

because I cannot be,

in a world as yours,

and all your manipulations,

bury me in realisation,

that what I saw was not clean,

what I saw had not potential,

just a broken record life,

repeating the same sad,


all from your crippled,

damaged soul.

You cannot see me,

for I am seeking purity,

words and actions in balance,

not the pretence of civility,

when cruel and desperate thoughts,

amass in your cold reptilian soul,

forged from need,

and so far from love.

Sadness envelops me,

for I have wasted me,

to somehow placate your dark desires,

in hope of real love,

but time gives truth meaning,

and resolutions acquire themselves,

in the light of circumstance.

I wish I were not so blind,

to see hope

when there is only darkness,

only the surreptitious angst of a burned heart,

not seeking healing,

but striving for gain,

the narcissistic designs

of a part-time sociopath,

blinded in their own eccentric demeanour.

And so it has always been,

I see only the good,

live in a puerile hope,

and wear a bruised and battered heart,

upon my blood-soaked sleeve,

and I have tried to be cynical,

tried to be open to deception,

yet, you can't see what you can't feel,

and I in response,

can only hide in a world,

within grasp and understanding.

What hope do men and women have

in an intimate relationship,

when lies abound,

when dreams keep wants moving,

and commitment is a dying ideal,

a paradigm seldom considered,

beyond what needs are satisfied.

Perhaps I am a dinosaur,

too close to petrification

that my desires are pointless,

yet my heart still beats,

and love is all that life is in worth,

to a soul open to life's persuasions.

My words will sing my song

long after the earth claims me,

and perhaps that legacy,

will abide my longing heart.

So, dare to cross that line,

and prepare to see yourself,

for I have nothing to hide,

and all I can be to you is reflection,

for you to see or not.

All I can hope for,

is sincerity, and in some way balance.


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