I have no recourse, but to hear the break,
As personality comes, soon or late,
No matter the error trust and Love make,
Reality is the stronghold of fate.
Romanticism drowns in cracks of time,
And sanity prevails like a wart;
It is perhaps no fault of yours or mine,
Breaks just happen to the thinking sort.
Age gaps and family and wounds and sense
Creep up like four ganks in an online game;
So then, we weep with a lack of pretence;
Because we suddenly know who to blame.
And all we want from what’s left of this hope
Is a strong support and some length of rope.
I was made to believe in all that’s right;
My elders told me good always prevails,
The day always follows the darkest night,
One succeeds despite all the times one fails;
They said keep faith, have strength, do the right thing;
Rise up each and every time you fall;
Trust in life, no matter what it may bring,
In time, tears do end, love does conquer all.
Now I’ve seen bad things happen to the good,
Seen fools prosper, the fatigue of the wise,
Though I lived just as I was told I should,
I acquired a heartache that never dies.
And yet I find I’ve this lesson to learn:
Those who leave, seldom, if ever, return.
They warn me I speak too much of my heart:
I am too vocal about what I think:
I mention every thought right at its start:
Way before the mind and heart form a link.
They say I am too childlike and confess
All that I know; let my truth rule my voice;
And let my conscience turn its duress,
On certainties, both traumatic and nice.
I know not what power compels me so,
To hone neither tact nor diplomacy;
I love, I laugh, I cry, I feel, I show –
I may do it all quite complacently.
No burden of regret makes me believe;
I go on wearing my heart on my sleeve