Uprooted Oak tree
Broken branches lie, decay
Roots lost to the winds
“Strive as we might, our humanity keeps us from perfection -that great illusion – And it is our humanity that tortures our thoughts when a “mistake” has been made. A mistake is paid for once, yet, our humanity guilts us, shames us, ’til we bankrupt our souls, still, believing we can obtain the unattainable…the perfect”… O’Prunty 2/13/17
Family tree stands tall
Some branches no longer exist
Shoots of new ones, little ones
Crucible of thought
The unanswered question, why?
My love has nowhere to go
Held fast within my being
My very core
Blessed was I
With the capacity to love
To give without thought
To surrender self,
Still, love grew old
Took its last breath, repose
And laden is the heart
With yesteryear thought…
And Cupids cruel, cruel, dart.
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