|
| |
Unpalatable
Your smile lit up my heart
as I basked in its light.
And yet, love died in its shadow,
shrouded in pain.
The surface of trust
was scratched;
susceptible to lies, it started to rust.
And hope tried to seal it
with placebos, empty platitudes,
and a fountain of sparkling phases
that spoke of love won, love lost,
and love yet to be.
Yet, as I watched you walk away,
my eyes filled with tears.
Delicious sweet words, used to seduce
and flatter,
morphed into unpalatable
parting words.
And yet, time moved on,
without guilt, apologies,
or promises.
Copyright ©
Emile Pinet
|
|