My true love gave me a gift of which I did not choose,
It's called heartache and it's become my muse,
Without it my poems would lack substance, simply sugarcoated,
Although painful this venue allows my troubles unloaded,
But how many times can I carry water from this well,
Before aquifers below us decide to rebel,
Rising up to wash my mind a clean slate,
Or run bone dry dehydrating each word I state,
Either way fate will have the final say on my poetic repertory,
I'm glad however God sees fit to bless each and every story,
By way of relieving the pain I feel before each poem is complete,
I encourage you all to partake in the same feat,
Catharsis is healthy for your soul that is common sense,
It's a balancing act to say less than you can afford to dispense,
So when you set out to win back your lover through written word,
Speak the absolute truth so your apology is heartily heard.
Farls Tokley
YOU ARE READING
Lovelorn Lad
PuisiWARNING: A few of these poems are not suited for children. The following is a collection of poems that are a fair representation of feelings I had and have for a special person or two. As well as a few scattered memories of one night interludes.
