Fleeting Poem by Gary Diamond

It's amazing what men have done in the name of love.
It's staggering that we got anything else done
For the want of it
For the size of it
For the effort of it
Can add or take years from the spirit.

It can't last. Even the best love can't last.
It ebbs and flows and eventually the tide of love turns you inside out.
The embers give up glowing.
They get smothered by the ever-decreasing tide.
So you have to stop.
Turn.
And find another person to do it all again.

I can't remember ever feeling truly happy in love.
I always remember feeling like it was just about to be snatched away
And there was the endless wanting,
The longing.
The hell of it continuing and continuing.
Nails down a blackboard.
A shiver upon the skin.
With love the cup was half-empty and half-full
All at once.

It wasn't meant to last.
It has to end.
As long as you admit that.
Love will become a little more bearable.
And when there's no more grist.
Sometimes you'll willingly shut down the mill.
Until business looks good again.

Either that or you can become a policeman
Or a lawyer
Or a doctor
Or a shrink
Or an undertaker.

These are businesses often dealing with the results
The tail-end of the hurricane whirlwind affairs
And trying to paper over the cracks
Or tearing the wall down entirely to create a new start.

Although love might destroy you, make a corpse out of you
You've really got to try it some time.