All’s Unfair In Love And War

The following is a poem I wrote.  Enjoy or not…

You don’t know what you meant to me,
but what you meant to me doesn’t really matter.
You were nothing but a misadventure,
a fantasy between before and after.
The war was short,
and the battle was long,
and it meant nothing at all.
Leave my memory,
and leave me be!
You never meant to stay close to me.
I was momentary ecstasy,
then you walked out.
Forgive me if I sound callous,
but the war is through,
and the battle is done,
and we’ve all moved on,
and that memory?
A fleeting thought to me!
But what you meant to me doesn’t really matter.
When you’ve won the battle,
but you’ve lost the war—
happiness a bittersweet chore—
do you join the herd of cattle as before?
When standing strong and tall’s a crime,
and you do time as they beat you into submission,
do you contemplate death?
Or stand and fight with sword and pen?
When happiness is a memory,
and your freedom is lost,
and even your god doesn’t know what to do,
do you prey on sympathy?
“I’m born anew!”
When this is your life,
and your life is this,
and your life is hell,
and your love is shit,
do you give up?
Do you give in?
Or do you simply begin again?
And then when you’ve won the battle,
but you’ve lost the war—
happiness a bittersweet chore—
do you join the herd of cattle as before?

H.I.M.
Everything’s unfair in our lust and war.

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