The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.
When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.
If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.
But most people don’t see it.
Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.
The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Forced by covenant to conceal
The wound you carry deep
Too dangerous far to now reveal
The secret you must keep
The truth, it’s said, can set you free
Whose truth, I ask my heart
Some truth must hide, to shadow flee
Or slay as a poisoned dart
A truth which must be guarded well
Though to be shouted loud it cries
Must be restrained and forced to dwell
Within a citadel of lies
A soaring fort of alabaster walls
Splendid turrets as disguise
Conceals pits beneath its gilded halls
Where love lies brutalized
Though we ache for all the world to see
To the heart, it matters naught
Two souls are not united by decree
Nor love with license bought
So truth must wait and a prisoner remain
In lonely cell, there to abide
Believe dreams of freedom are not in vain
That gates, one day, will open wide
Winston Churchill wrote "In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies. " Just as in war, so it may be in love.
you get one day to cry
it’s time to fix your crown
the words spilled from her mouth
here i sit,
as my best friend,
you have another.
i shouldn’t care.
but i do.
no matter how hard i try,
the poetry for you in which i write,
it just keeps pouring out of my soul.
it sometimes seems as if,
the poetry i write for you is what keeps my heart beating.
what keeps me breathing.
but now, what am i supposed to do?
do you think she will love you?
do you really think she will love you?
please tell me.
it’s hard to think of you with another
because we used to be so in love with each other.
it’s been a long time since we last spoke,
but it feels as if all the memories of us i have were just made yesterday.
you have another.
who will never,
love you in the way i could.
but my question for you is,
will you love her in the way you could towards me?
You ask me why I go
Because no one's requested that I stay
You wonder why I run
Because I've grown exhausted of this place
You think you know my heart,
But it's still searching for its home
You attempt to negotiate,
But this soul already roams
You dream I follow yours
Yet, they consist of sleep
While mine encourage growth
Your story reads as fiction
While I live mine under oath
© JL Smith
— The End —