Breaking up poems

A ring of humor

- by Oscar Lopez 59

A ring of humor, that I came to own
Along with it, a heart of stone
Given with love, accepted with a smile
Only to have it last, just for a while
It was to be, the one true ring
And that it was, such a painful sting
A ring of humor that I come to posses
A ring to her, worth less and less
My hopes and dreams, tide to a ring
But now it is, such a worthless thing
When you were picked, I was not
When she said yes, she had forgot
That another heart, was in her way
Love you she said, still every day
A kiss for him and a kiss for you
A kiss from love, I thought I knew
A ring of humor, oh so very round
A deserving fate, perhaps was found
A ring of humor, now found with me
Now a painful lesson, for me to see…….

Value of love

- by Jennifer Edwards 58

I have seen women lifted by love.
Countless women surrounded, fed, embraced by love.
But most recently I have met a woman condemned by love.
Alienated, starved, forgotten by love.
The pain from love is visible in the eyes, heart, and soul of this woman.
She who lives for love, who would die for love.
Curiosity forces me to look deep into her.

Big brown eyes tell of a man whose love was taken away as quickly as was given.
A selfish man whose compassion drowned in these eyes.
Taking advantage of the faith and forgiveness she possesses.
Tears roll down her cheeks and begin to drip from her delicate chin.
As sympathy overwhelms me I invite myself in for a better look.

A bleeding heart welcomes me to the truth behind this love.
What once was bliss has transformed.
The love that filled now forces her to starve.
An endless hunger that consumes, leaving nothing for this woman.
This man has stripped her of all that she loved including himself.
He has laughed at her sorrow and found comfort in her misery.
My heart breaks for her as she opens up to let me in.

One foot after the other I step into her soul.
My thoughts echo as I begin to connect with her sorrows.
"Stop," catches her attention as I start to reason with her.
"Do not give yourself to this man."
Confusion fills her as she wakes to catch my gaze.
"If your love/your life mean so little to you that you can just give it away, why should it mean any more to him?"
I hear these words and reality sets in.

I have met this woman in love.
Alienated, starved, forgotten by love.
I have seen into her eyes, felt her heartache, and visited her soul.
This muse whose sorrow connects so genuinely with mine... is ME!
I have given my life to a man who has never asked nor has he ever cared for it.
I have believed and made true all lies.
I have accepted inferiority, for how can he value me more than I value myself?