Blindside Poem by Timothy Long

isnt that what makes love tragic?
we can only sit by mourning the rest of our lives,
was her shallow display my weakness?
or my curse to always repeat going forward,
passion ran low for the phony society he hated,
coming down realizing his tensions of good failed him so,
as everyone failed him now and then,
swelling with love?
no swelling with angst well,
we are all still so innocent,
changing feeling so often,
living life one step at a time,
a lie believed is running away from truth,
saving others from forgetting,
saving others from growing up,
time was passing by to fast making him cry,
being forced to remember,
blindsided by life and all of it's emotions,
he never wanted to tell anyone anything,
cause... thats when he missed everything