Pride Has No Place
Not in any loving relationship
The time cannot be returned,
The missed opportunities guised as rejection,
The most expensive commodity is the hours in any given day,
Consider the consequences of withholding your affection.
***
Love is destroyed by the shallowness and coldness
Of stupidity and pigheadedness,
What changed?
Know that your actions leave a loved one’s emotions a mess.
***
Is it worth the loss of love?
The pain you cause by no longer being considerate
Of another’s feelings, the hurt you drive,
Especially when the actions are deliberate.
***
Don’t spout the words of love
After your narcissistic ways,
Proving your actions speak louder than words,
Leaving pain that last for days.
***
Why?
They’re left wondering without an answer,
After years of closeness, loyalty and happiness,
Love is eroded by a fast acting cancer.
***
Please reconsider, make a last ditch effort,
Bring the universe back onto an even keel,
You’re close to losing their love forever,
And the regret will be horrendous, not how you’ll want to feel.
***
Pride is an expense you cannot afford,
Life is short and you’ve no idea of the time left,
Don’t stand at their graveside in disarray,
And realise the horror of your actions became time’s theft.
***
Tomorrow could be too late,
Neither of you are invincible,
A blink of an eye is all it takes,
Think deeply before the power of loss becomes convincible.
***
Love is forgiveness,
Accepting that no one is perfect,
There’s no room for revenge,
Stop now before your love is irreparably wrecked.
***
Be the bigger person,
Hold your loved one near,
Let the water under the bridge dissipate,
And don’t hold onto stupidity because of fear.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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