False Hope

midnight drive

When will you leave my dreams.
I won’t be able to sleep tonight, or any night it seems.
All hope was lost in the moment I thought I was found.
Negative reinforcements brought on in threes.
And because of you, any grasp on self esteem will cease and decrease until elegant falling of the autumn leaves.

In a split second eternity of clarity or desperation, call it what you will.
A realisation that you’re a pathogen and I’m critically ill.
Revelation, no vaccination can cure this virus,
In only a few weeks your roots begin to seep and embed themselves in me, like poison ivy strangling an oak tree.
A beautiful metaphor, but more deadly than meets the eye.
You take and take until I bend and break, and my branches wither.
It’s sad I know, but there’s no future where I’m not with her.

Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.