Friday, 22 January 2016
In their love stories
Looking at the word
It was procrastination
Just what could I write?
How could I use it
Preferring romantic tales
Love and tenderness
Where's the poetry
In such a sad word as this
My mind's uncertain
Those tears in her eyes
There is no future with him
She tells him the truth
But he still has hope
And cannot accept goodbye
His love is so blind
So she lies to him
I am seeing someone else
He stares open mouthed
Men they are such fools
He's taken her for granted
So he pays the price
He was angry now
Both loving and hating her
Her eyes were fearful
Will he do her harm?
She wonders what she should do
So then she tells him
Let's both have a break
Play the field just to make sure
It is worth a try
So he nods sadly
Gullible as most men are
Kicks stones on way home
Every writer
Puts a little of themselves
In their love stories
Image found at www.psychologytoday.com
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Mine would be a very long story. Gullibility is my second name! Ah well, that's life.
ReplyDeleteHow true. People always ask me if certain people are "me" in my stories.
ReplyDeleteYes they do - the kicking stones seemed to ring out for me across the miles..question is how much do we put in...
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