Array ( [sid] => 184861 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => STAGES OF RAGES [time] => 2018-02-11 09:17:44 [hometext] => Getting over love. [bodytext] =>
You speak of love as though you are done with it.
Anger betrays you; you’ve only begun with it!

One day you’ll know where love starts and ends:

Denial and self lies: stage one—we pretend!.
The heart grows suspicious. We won’t believe friends.

Next we take blame; The guilt trip descends;
This can be fixed—if I just make amends!

Three - we blame others, despite their objections;
Fixes at this stage require perfection!

The harder we grip, the more love grows cold;
We’re losing the bond; untying its’ hold;
Still sifting the ashes for leftover gold!

Speaking in rage we lament our decisions;
Bitter our tirades of love’s cruel incision;
Tears bring us less than a moment’s dilution;
Falling far short of the hearts absolution.

At last we acknowleledge that we played a part.
Destroying the space that once held our heart.

Sooner or later sarcasm will follow;
Embittered laughter that rings in the hollows;
And echos the canyons like ghostly reminders;
Caustic cartoon-speak of days that were kinder;

At last we’re too tired to mount an attack;
There is after all, no way to go back;
Healing comes not from rage, but the lack!

Both love and hate are equals revealing;
How deep we’re entangled by all of our feelings.

It’s over, it’s done, when no footprints endure.
Recovery is silent, and so it obscures;
Apathy’s signal that love has been cured.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 77 [topic] => 21 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - STAGES OF RAGES


STAGES OF RAGES
Date: Sunday, 11th February 2018 @ 09:17:44 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware

You speak of love as though you are done with it.
Anger betrays you; you’ve only begun with it!

One day you’ll know where love starts and ends:

Denial and self lies: stage one—we pretend!.
The heart grows suspicious. We won’t believe friends.

Next we take blame; The guilt trip descends;
This can be fixed—if I just make amends!

Three - we blame others, despite their objections;
Fixes at this stage require perfection!

The harder we grip, the more love grows cold;
We’re losing the bond; untying its’ hold;
Still sifting the ashes for leftover gold!

Speaking in rage we lament our decisions;
Bitter our tirades of love’s cruel incision;
Tears bring us less than a moment’s dilution;
Falling far short of the hearts absolution.

At last we acknowleledge that we played a part.
Destroying the space that once held our heart.

Sooner or later sarcasm will follow;
Embittered laughter that rings in the hollows;
And echos the canyons like ghostly reminders;
Caustic cartoon-speak of days that were kinder;

At last we’re too tired to mount an attack;
There is after all, no way to go back;
Healing comes not from rage, but the lack!

Both love and hate are equals revealing;
How deep we’re entangled by all of our feelings.

It’s over, it’s done, when no footprints endure.
Recovery is silent, and so it obscures;
Apathy’s signal that love has been cured.


This poem is Copyright © softerware


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