Sam Oliver

Sam Oliver May 2010

In the end,
I never harmed any of you.
When you were down,
I held you high.
I drank your pains,
It left me dry.

Does that make you
Satisfied?

You were injured by 'love',
I licked your wounds.
Remember,
I let go of you
Because you
Wanted me to.
But always,
I remained by your side.

Does that make you satisfied?

You asked my hand
Then ****** away,
What was it
You were trying to say?
In the end,
You could not decide.

Does that make you satisfied?

We loved each other,
So I thought.
Till you drowned yourself
In another man's wine.
But I remained steadfast,
I think you'll find.
But forgiveness was my only friend
After you took to the bitter end.
You only wanted me to ride.

Does that make you satisfied?

We loved each other,
So you said,
But all that really
Filled your head
Was using me
To fill your bed.
Till I knew that
I was on your side.

Does that make you satisfied?

You, too.
You also claimed love,
But only as long
As I wore your glove.
I did your deeds,
I sowed your seeds.
But, in the end,
What did you owe me?
Nothing,
Apparently.
From this past,
I cannot hide.

Does that make you satisfied?

You 'loved' me,
But not as much as her.
*******,
You wanted more.
You promised love
All of my days
As long as I
Could always stay
Tolerant of another lover
Who sneaked her way
Into our covers.
In the end,
I had to decide.

I could not make you satisfied.

All the women in my life,
Put me through
Such troubles and strife.
But despite their sins,
I'd hold them in.
For each of them,
I would die.

But they never will be satisfied.

Sam Oliver Apr 2010

Torture

There is no worse torture
To the lonely
Than seeing
Public displays of affection.

What is the point?

Holding hands
Everywhere you go,
Hugging,
Kissing,
Snogging.

You're ******* on
Open wounds.

Many of us
Didn't ask to be left.
We didn't volunteer
To be dying inside
With no paddles,
No nurse,
To revive us.

We know what
Heartbreak is.
And soon,
So will you.

You're
Overcompensating.
It's obvious.
You kiss her head,
Caress her face,
She's not your queen.
You have an ace
Hidden in your deck.

You're just hoping
She doesn't draw
Enough to
Expose you.

I have nothing
To make up for.

No sins against
A woman,
No jealousy
Against a man.

I have only
The experience
To tell when
Someone's being had.

Sam Oliver Apr 2010

My Blessings (My Curses)

Bless You,
The heart that gives me wings.
Bless You,
The one who lets me sing.
Bless You,
For loving this broken thing.
Bless You
For love neverending.

---

Curse You,
Who I never loved at all.
Curse You,
You were destined to fall.
Curse You,
You succumbed to Siren's Call.
Curse You,
You never loved me after all.

---

The First Verse,
I hold dear.
The Second Verse,
I fear.

No curses
Do I hold for anyone.

My loves,
I'll always love.
My hatred,
Does it exist?

Despite the lies
Despite the noise
Despite the misdirection,
My loves will all be missed.

My curses?
Many.
No love,
No appreciation,
No peace.

My blessings?
Few.
But certainly
Not least.

While I have loved you all,
All my days,
I was fooled that you loved me.

That foolish air
Of false love you shared,
Had its effect on me;

A shot to the chest.
I'll never rest
Until real love,
I'll see.

Sam Oliver Apr 2010

Cultural Double-Standards

Gay men are fit to love.
Straight men are fit to curse.

Save the trees.
Save the whales.
Save the seals.
Save the vile criminal.
**** the innocent fetus.

Bush is hated for starting a war.
Obama is loved for perpetuating it.

Hating a black man
Is racism,
Despite his own actions towards you.
Hating a white man?
Expected.
Smiled upon.

Black Power?
Okay.
*******?
Damnable.

A *******?
Fit to marry.
A Gentleman?
Fit to trample.

A man courting a woman?
Accepted.
A woman courting a man?
Strange, unheard of.

Not trying to be political.
Not trying to be partial.
Just trying to be social.

Sam Oliver Apr 2010

Scorpio

In the end,
Mars is just a rock.
A rock covered in sand,
Made of worn,
Rusty,
Iron.

That said,
It can't control me.
Only I can,
And that's a point of pride.

I sting as much as I will,
I pinch as much as I will,
And I'll sleep in your sandals
As much as I will.

Thankfully,
I often choose to be benevolent.
Only I can choose my morals,
And that's a point of pride.

I may be passionate,
I may be persistent,
Obsessive,
Loyal,
And manipulative all in one.

But I am that and more.
If Mars is meant to restrict me,
It has failed miserably.
Can the same be said
Of it's rusty sand?

— The End —