Rare Fiction

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My good bye to the wildfire...

Rare Fiction

You came my way broken and empty

You were not alone

You brought a summers worth of baggage from your Heart

And I have done my best to show you something

You know nothing about

I have tried to be there for you

The best way I know how

It hasn’t been easy

And you’re a challenge to say the least

In recent times

It sadly feels like good bye

I raised hell over it

And I know you’re confused over why

But I feel your hearts distance

More than you realize

It makes me angry

Cause it hurts

I count myself lucky

To have shared a short smile with you

Our imagination ran wild

It was a dream till fate took its course

You’ll do what you feel you need to

If ever your Heart felt mine

You would know

I wasn’t looking through you

(Using you)

I wasn’t looking at you

(Treating you like a value-less piece of meat)

I was looking into you

And the things that keep you lost on the inside

The scars you bear, even drag through your everyday life

Brakes my Heart

I’ve tried to fight

Tried to lighten your weight

But looking deeper into you

I see your potential

To love

Yourself and another

To be happy

With yourself and another

We both know you’re stronger than you’ll admit

You came to me

For whatever the reason I’ll never really know

I’d like to think

It was to know, to share

Something real

With a man who was real

Whole on the inside and knew who he was

If ever there was a gift or something I wanted to give you

It would be

True happiness

I’ve tried to share it

Show it

Give it

To you

But you didn’t know how to take it

Accept it

Understand it

So I’ve given you a choice

One you do not like or understand

But I promise you this

It will show you the real deal

True Happiness

It will just anger you in the mean time

Later in life

You’ll understand

You’ll see the seed that was planted

A tree of happiness for your future

-Fin-

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
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