We didn't know any better
and took life for granted
like musketeers in them old movies
you might still watch a few minutes of
tonight while channel surfing.
And we believed in true love
and the healing touch
of sweat and wine,
like when she helped me move to Kansas City,
even though whatever we had
had ended
when I got cold feet and a wandering eye.
There's shame in my heart
at what I did to her;
it comes with the sensitivity
I only get
after taking a good beating
when I lick the wounds later.
Because if its really true
the impermanence thing to which we speak,
no one therefore ever ought
be treated
the way I did her
back in the day.
© 2007 johntaiyu
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/12057/104562 on Sunday October 12th, 2008 07:07 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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