Uncomfortable Change
The bond is broken
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Stilted conversation, eyes wandering around the room,
It’s difficult to breathe, anxiety heightened,
Words become uneasy, topics skirted and ignored,
The bond is broken, the bands of unforgiving tightened.
***
Will we always suffer through these dalliances?
Suffer due to obligations, attend because we should,
As it’s obvious none of us wanted the company, the conversation,
But blood makes us stay silent, the joys of adulthood.
***
Shallow relationship, where once the heartstrings were strong,
The joy gone, the companionship wrong,
Who are you now? I no longer recognise you,
We — you and I — no longer belong.
***
I beg for the day we can all walk away,
Admit that my usefulness is no more,
I’ve done my job, the decisions you’ve now chosen,
You’ve shown me your pathway and slammed the door.
***
I feel the next step is to grant you freedom,
To remove the obligatory chores neither of us need,
A simple but silent goodbye, au revoir,
Time is necessary, time as my heart breaks and bleeds.
***
Where once there was loyalty and trust,
That’s all been destroyed, torn asunder,
Devotion and appreciation a forgotten memory,
The sacrifices mean nothing, will you regret it all? I wonder!
***
Please leave me be now, I’m so very tired,
The constant pain, the horrid rejection,
The never ending tears, I’m over it all,
Your selfishness, your shallowness, a disappointing reflection.
***
Can we but agree to put this behind us?
You live your life and I live mine, singly and apart,
Be happy, be gone, our time has come,
I cannot take the damage you’re doing to my heart.
***
I did my best, I’m sorry that’s no longer good enough,
You’ve your own responsibilities now and you see your duty done,
I only hope you don’t live to regret your decisions,
But I’m finished, my fight is over, in this race you’ve won!
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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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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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Comments (3)
Very emotional and well done.
This was so sad my friend. I can feel your pain and devastation. Sending hugs and love!
Interesting, it is good to find writers that love to create poetry. BRAVO!