The Seven-Year Itch

The Seven-Year Itch

Seven years, the time creeps near,

A shadow whispers, “What’s left here?”

Comfort’s warmth becomes routine,

Dreams of more dance in between.

Once a fire, fierce and bright,

Now flickers faint in the still of night.

The thrill of new, the taste of risk,

Tempts the heart with a dangerous twist.

Eyes may wander, minds might stray,

Seeking paths that lead away.

But is it more they truly crave,

Or freedom from the bonds they gave?

For love is not a constant breeze,

It tests, it bends, it even deceives.

But deeper roots can weather the storm,

If hearts remember how they’ve been warmed.

The seven-year itch may scratch the soul,

But it’s love’s endurance that makes it whole.

To seek in others what you have at home,

Is to risk a kingdom for a fleeting throne.

So pause and ponder, ask what’s true,

Is it escape, or a fresh view?

For love reborn can spark again,

When effort meets the hearts of men.