Hidden Day

koqhe

 

Hidden Day

It is sad when a love comes to an end,
Having seen a few during my life,
When the jigsaw no longer makes sense,
And all paths lead to continued strife,

When there is simply nothing left to say,
And moments’ together have no meaning,
Shared smiles and joys have seen the better day,
Not forgetting humour that’s no longer amusing,

When time just seems to trail on forever,
In each others’ company with nothing new being achieved,
Dreams and motivations are now never,
Going to see fruition, for the originality has been deceived,

But we do try to carry on don’t we all,
Sometimes for the sake of the children,
Or a lack of acceptance for the fall,
And not forgetting fear of a now broken routine,

We know each other often so very well,
And it is easier to try again than to accept failure,
Not understanding that the next time will be pure hell,
For then emotional upset will be replaced by anger,

And the reality is that very deep down we do know,
That this ugliness will appear again,
When despite efforts to rebuild, each of us will have to go,
And like a prayer, before we should have closed with an amen,

For the next time, there will be more misery on display,
Knowing then that we do indeed have to part,
No longer can this pretence live within the hidden day,
And that now we will have to look to restart,

It’s always sad to accept the end of something so special,
But when it is done, usually and sadly that is truth,
We make our lives harder by not being brutal,
And agreeing that we as an ‘us’ is no longer in youth,

For staying together under false circumstances,
Means that we are simply lying to appease,
And that we will become deceitful dancers,
One of us always looking for eventual release,

Knowing that the fire that once burned so brightly,
Has now fizzled out and embers are scattering to the winds,
And that carrying on is somewhat phony,
For if the end comes again, there will be no time to rescind,

Then we will have to accept and understand we are done,
And as such move on with our lives,
Our loving time is over, there is no more fun,
To be had, nor any more joy to be retrieved,

Maybe we should part now whatever the consequence,
This way our love will live on fruitful in our memory,
With a fondness and not a bitterness,
Of what once was when we were meant to be.

 

1hd4e8

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