A Violent End To This One
She seemed so certain this time
We set a date
And prayed for forgiveness
And then comes the blow
She doesn't love you
And she doesn't want you
It's like that.
Something turns in a person
And they destroy you with
Love they had
Evaporates on the breeze
As dew on the grass blades.
It's different for me.
The speed is different.
It takes me longer to fall in love
It takes, as consequence
Longer for me to hate.
I don't hang on quickly
But I do hang on longer
So when she deals the blow
When the words come
Colder by text message or email
Taking all the occasion
Out of getting shoved.
I prefer the violent ends.
With pots and pans thrown
By me and
Laughing about each others foibles
A weird birthmark
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Comments about this poem (A Violent End To This One by Gary Diamond )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(22 March 1941 -)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
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