There was that time of reckoning recalled,
when you would claim I did not grasp the facts,
and yet it was so clear to me – like day;
the image vivid of the words and acts.

You spoke of love and caring carefully,
and yet in demonstration said much more,
revealed the opposite of what you claimed;
left marks upon my soul – pure weeping sores.

In grasping to the shreds of hope I gave,
myself into your hands and you displayed,
a Self so cavalier and cruel that none believed,
the stories that I told of heart betrayed.

There was no more that I could ever do,
but hold my truth so closely to my mind,
and tell myself that none could understand;
and others, like yourself, were truly blind. 

Within that silence of abandoned self,
I found that letting go brought great relief,
and holding on was what brought utter pain;
surrender led the way to inner peace.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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