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Sorrow

In Uncategorized on August 13, 2011 at 12:36 am

So, in trying to do the right thing, I made several mistakes somehow.  I injured two people I love and lastly myself.  I don’t know where to begin.

Love, conjures

Love, imposes

Love, takes risks

Love, is not afraid.

I scared the first person I want to talk to in the morning and the last person I speak to before I go to bed.

I lost a good friend.

I somehow stained my honor.

I feel like the lowest piece of trash.

And for what reason?

Because I tried to be honorable.

Because I tried to be decent.

Because I tried. . .

Love has no place in a selfish heart.

Love is not to be hoarded.

Rather, Love is a tool.

For better understanding.

Like any tool used for the wrong purpose or used improperly it is bound to fail,

And then it will not complete the job.

What is Love’s job?

Love’s job is to be strong, and see past misunderstandings.

Love’s job is to be safe and unobtrusive,

Love is method with no measure.

The cadence of Love’s tempo is regulated by the unforeseen.

One word can disavow all love stands for,

One syllable may set back love to the beginning,

Where trust must be re-established.

Trust is the workbench where Love resides.

And while Love is brittle, it’s rules immutable,

It is pliable and resilient.

It’s finish is hard to taint.

 

 

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