
With matters of the heart
Here comes heartache that smears and leaves inside a huge mark
Unaware as people are
No one notices, really
They try to function day-to-day
Little do they know
There is no warning sign
No flashing light.
Heartache creeps in
It replaces where trust once stayed
It is almost like it packs a bag,
It is not going anywhere soon.
Little by little the changes seem
To little really to place blame
As if the heart was made of steel
People excuse that deep down, how they feel.
They don’t understand it all
Or they would run away, even crawl.
No one likes heartache, no one needs it either
It is sadly though a fact of life
Somewhere along in your own life you have had it come
It stays for a while and then some
Leaving in its place things that barely function any more,
Things like trust, like pleasure, like joy.
Sometimes it sinks into the walls of the heart
It does not hesitate at all.
However, heartache can be put in the back of your heart, sometimes
That place where you avoid going unless something triggers it
The avoidance does not extinguish it,
All it does is give a person a little while to feel the right way again
To enjoy something that they hadn’t been
In a sort of way, it allows them to pretend.
So if you see heartache coming for a visit,
Turn it away, don’t let it stay
Show it your heart and its courage,
Its fight.
Then, and only then will you eventually be alright.
💌
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Lovely poem dear. ❤️✌️
BY FOR NOW
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🙂
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You are correct. Thank you for commenting and sharing. 😀
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Thank you
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Acceptance is the answer. When my Mom died unexpectedly at a youthful (in my family’s terms) 79, at least 15 years prematurely, I knew that, amid several other survival crises at the time, I simply had to accept and let it go. It sounds unloving harsh, but it kept me sane. Under the circumstances. When I was cheated out of a few million in my currency on July 15, leaving us destitute, with me on disability ex-wheelchair, I sulked for two weeks, rebooted myself, put God’s praise on my lips. If I hadn’t decisively dealt with the heartache, I may have ripped out my pulses with a tyre lever by now. Sometimes, hard as it is, one needs to realise that self-preservation depends upon acceptance and moving on.
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good read
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