Lost Lots. Found Few. Horridly Hurt. Bled. Ruptured.
Smile my love for you do not have the luxury of moping forever,
Get up and brush your backside off for you cant mourn any further
Yes … I know the pain
Of dreams dying not for want but by slain.
Your cookie was taken away by those who did not know what it tastes like
Your path to success blocked by emotional blackmail and turnpike.
Those who clinched what you abandoned have emerged winners
You on the other hand imagine them all smirk n snigger.
The torture you subject yourself to, for being compliant
Feasts on you like locust
The agony of being devoured and eaten away
By those you trust.
Gulp down your defeat and do not you utter a word,
For out will come the sword,
Of noble intentions and love,
Dipped in critique and loathe,
Sharp and piercing like foxglove.
Take it in your stride they say
Search for optimism, look for perspective
Count your blessings and Move on in life
And you take it all in. Quietly.
For they are oblivious to your tears and strife.
You stand in the queue waiting for your turn
Praying you dont skedaddle,
You continue to remain at it
Albeit with trepidation,
Holding firm on your spaddle.
“You cant give in, not just yet”,
With these hollow words of consolation,
When they encourage you to play along
You know you will continue to do so
Without ever revealing your real emotion.
Your exhaustion will be invisible
So shall your tears,
And you will hear yourself say … “Darling you cant give up”
Despite the tepid,
While dispelling your fears …
Much love … Sugarsatchet