Cupid’s Deranged Sense Of Humor Poem by Robert Beksinski

The visions of you keep appearing
Your face is in every black corner I turn
Before the coal became diamonds, my heart was broken
You left, and your silence killed me in the morning

I loved you, but now I am shackled to your pitiless desire
And you are not even here to bare witness to my pain
I wake up, hoping, dreaming, you are by my side
But instead a depression of fire engulfs me and my loneliness

Maybe tomorrow will be different
Maybe my tears will not be spilled on your expense
Hopefully the sun will be brighter
And lighten my path to recovery, to revival

Things will get better, I promise