It’s not as if we know not whence
recrimination’s recompence
seduced by carnal elegance
we’re ever back for more

and like as not we’ll foul decry
when ‘yond the mask we chance to spy
and never understanding why
‘tis mirroring of whore

and many share exact same fate
the cyclical perpetuate
all subsequently denigrates
the heart no longer pure

and so to words and chance to scream
allay the pain from each night’s dream
all is ne’er what it might seem
but fair in love and war

scant few notice just how tense
maybe the dents in confidence
but presume that we would have more sense
than rotting our own core

our actions merely crucify
demotion of Cupid to passer by
happiness in blink of eye
caught ‘twixt shoe and floor

comes there a point when ‘tis too late
conscience love’s Fourth Estate
feelings turned from love to hate
last slamming of the door

any amount of papered cracks
cannot disguise the charcoal black
from memories of looking back
of the never truly sure

(written June 2009)

Song Of The Day ~ Manu Negra – Soledad

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