ode to a "best friend" pt2

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  • Loss

    Poem Commentary

    This is a poem intended to more so save me, than get closure from him. I am tired of looking to men for my salvation and my security. I am ready to be my own safe blanket... Good bye michael...

    ode to a "best friend" pt2

    I guess I thought that when I started that I would know exactly what to say,
    They were right when they say that words sometimes get in the way... 
    I wonder why this one sided conversation seems so awkward with the invisible someone who I thought would be my superman...
    The one who said he would search for me forever than forgot my name...
    I am history... Sitting in the books with Abraham Lincoln... surrounded by 
    one hundred slaves....
    I figure if I allowed you to be master than your love would obey...
    why would you do this to me?  What have I done to deserve this solitude...
    How could you say forever and then leave me alone with nothing else to 
    do...
    I guess it was only physical... No wait now I know...
    You telling me my battle wounded stomach was beautiful was only just for show...
    You wanted me for the moment, than why couldn't you just tell me the truth?
    i wouldnt have been mad,  for goodness sake it was you... 
    But now I lay down my virtue for a lie...
    I surrender the cape, no more hero inside, I am ready to die...
    I guess you would call me dramatic, or say that it isn't really like that,
    You kiss me on my forehead only to say that you would be right back..
    what happened, o maybe right after you made love to me you forgot how to use a phone.
    Damn how stupid was I to think that your heart was a place for mine to call
    home...
    Well I cant act tough now and try to pretend that Im not into you...
    But you left with no concious, just like all of the others now what am I to do?
    I guess you don't care... So maybe neither should I...
    But to boys like you my tears don't matter, so I will share sobs in solitude and hear the echos of my cry...

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    blvdobd2009’s Poems (103)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
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