Dear Heartbreaker Poem by Michael Eziudo

You enjoy the title, love to be called an ex
Not minding if anyone wishes to be your ex
How many exes would you keep
One, two, three and more exes and number keeps going up
If it were an achievement you really are richly poor
Where one faults everybody every fault is one's unconscious self breeding odour

If pessimism be your weakness
Aren't there managed fears you daily witness
Castle on flowy seas were once built in the air and as far as the eye sees
Fear has never been a limiting factor
To a determined soul, rather a propelling factor
But no, you got caged perhaps
By the fear of unknown tomorrow that comes
One that will never arrive

But hearts are broken anyways
Bleeding but never shedding tears
How could they when it all should be a testimony
Of good riddance to bad memory
But human will always be human
So we bleed in the heart often

Often we bleed not that you exist in our memories any more
But the thought of calling someone else what you were
Brings to mind a searing imagery
Like it is with an abused divorcee

And yes, you're an abuser
Because you were a camouflaged lover
Waking a heart from sleep, fed it a lot of sugar and then bashed it on the wall
But like snail, in speed faster than a cheetah's, it will crawl out of the brawl
And dust itself clean with honey provided from the hearts of a true lover
One that's determined to face forever
Whether it be real or just a fantasy

Like I'd advise divorcees to check history of divorces before marrying
I'll do same of why the manifold exes before entering
I'll hear what is said from what is not said
To see why them you have exed
Else I suffer what they too suffered

You made me give my heart dear heartbreaker
And when I gave my all and left it bare before you oh heartbreaker
You smashed it on the wall dear heartbreaker
And left me wetting the bed every night
With tears from how much I'd loved you all through the days and many a night

Oh how many precious things
In search of many precious things
Leave the precious things
In fear that the precious things they got
Are not equal precious things
In life with you I have learnt
That failure is a conscious effort