Voids Which Can Never Be Filled Poem by Ted Sheridan

Having only ever experienced love in a room dark with suspicions
She really had no clue as to the depth of the incisions love can make
When preformed by a surgeon who knows how to cut
Or the drunkeness it can induce
When mixed by a deceptive hand and then
Sipped on an empty heart
No one ever explained to her in terms she could fully understand
How impossible it is to meet the needs and demands
Of someone outside of oneself
Happiness is so elusive and just another void
Created by a need for loving and for being loved
It will always be confused for that which it is not...Love itself
And while loving someone only fills the void for awhile
It does not, cannot and will never replace it
The void is always there
Constantly demanding to be filled
Like a pothole of the soul....
And no one has a shovel....
Having only ever experienced love in a room dark with suspicions
She really had no clue....

2007 © T Sheridan