Vain interpretations
tainting life as it unfolds
Contradict the process of perception

Lullabies and love songs
placate longings in the soul
cuts between appearance and exception

Festering resentment
of his wasted dedication
leaves her void of all appreciation

Cuts her down without a clue
with hurtful things he says
shuts the door to all communication

Sweeping up the feathers
that have fallen from her wings
oblivious that she no longer flies

He never truly listens
when she speaks or when she sings
The lyrics always dwell between goodbyes

Then he reads the letter
on the pillow that she left
Realizing she is finally gone

For time is wasted on the way
to finding who we are
Then sorting out the reasons
things went wrong

Love letters are not always
about the ones we think we love
Not always about the ones
we know we hate

Sometimes it’s more about
the self we’re trying to ignore
The person we’re becoming
while we wait

TM DiSarro

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