May thoust, without sin! castaway
Sin #1: Yearning
I was but 17, when I gave my heart! to one who did not want it.
Yet, take it they did.
As a pin on their chest, a war trophy.
Exhaustion, came-only after a cat? grew tired of torturing a mouse.
Sin #2: A Curse for Loneliness
When I was but 39, I came across a broken doll.
Left on the roadside, abandoned by the world.
Beside it? A stray dog, who surely would have died.
Had I not stopped, to feed it.
Yet, with a snarl. A bitter tongue.
Did bite.
Seven years, did it take! for thy hand to heal.
Seven years, cast into the depths of Hell.
For love, unrequited.
Where there had been, no love at all.
Only, revenge.
Sin #3: Indifference
Apathy, they say? draws the heart, to pulse cold.
One, can be thrown away? so many times.
Before, it becomes apart of the landscape.
When I was but 42, I met a woman.
Who took out her rage, on her darling boy.
For, every time she looked at him! she saw his adulterous father.
So, with wild abandon she did rotate men.
With thin walls shared, as they did shake from the hoard.
Words, might have been spoken?
But, there were! no ears to hear.
Lesson #1 Beware of Wall Flowers, with need for fresh air.
Lesson #2 Beware of ego’s drive, to save and shelter-the drowning china doll, tethered to a stray; for! they very well, might pull you under with them-in their spite, of misunderstood intentions.
Lesson #3 Beware of wrathful dragons, who are beyond reason, or love.
Good morning, Bran. That feeling of “when you get thrown away over and over, you become part of the scenery.” I really understood that. When people keep getting hurt, they even get tired of being angry, and little by little, they start closing off their emotions. But the fact that you’re still able to write a poem like this made me feel like there’s still a power to feel left inside you, Bran.