poetry (1)


He gave her a little more than nothing and she gave him a little more than a goodbye. Ending the fabric of life as we knew it, the seams splitting at the sides. Far be it to say what is meant to be or where we go from here. Life keeps living and the world keeps spinning even when we have so much to fear. Breakups, makeups, and all that is in between, do not make us or break us, or mold us into being any more… keen. Unexpected little turns, even when we simply say, “hello,” can make us falter or push us further than we may be willing to go. How unpredictable it is…a laughable joke on us. We think we have it figured out when life throws you under the bus. But how much faith do we devote to a feeling that is felt? A love a hate a power too great…but it is just life which is dealt. Unrelated coincidences and consequences we ignore until the decision has been made and the mistakes which for those we implore. Knock us down and get back up again and do it all once more. What is love when you say goodbye and walk right out of the door. Where is the sense of security that once presented itself, the commitment made in vows that laid themselves in front of crowds? Lacking now what we had in abundance and tricks and trades were exchanged, replacing love with hateful feelings and actions rearranged. Little time spent on trying or wanting to figure it out. When love is love and hate is hate we leave little to our doubts. If he had tried harder and she had tried longer than goodbyes would be less so. What can be done to save and salvage is simple….invest in what you know.

E.A. Davis 5/13/14


3 thoughts on “The Art of Love

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