The Illusion Of Love Poem by Lynn Stillman

Breaking and entering,
no heart is safe from this crime.
You invest all you have in trusting another,
your hopes, your dreams and precious time.
Maybe you can't even truly afford it,
and you know you are living well above,
your means.
Desperately, you seek out the charm of a
fairy tale.
Like Jack and his handful of magic beans.
Sadly, you wind up with an illusion,
and find you have been taken,
by an expert at sleight of hand.
Weakened by the loss of tears,
you cannot stand up and take a stand.
So you place yourself, like a cheap knickknack,
to gather cobwebs on an unreachable shelf.
Or maybe your final epitaph will end,
with the words out of a front page headline,
'before turning the gun on herself'.