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Another Sad Story...Another Broken Heart
She once cared so much
If I am to belive the words she wrote
But she only cared while it suited her
And when I began to care
I felt compassion for her
And I treated her the only way I could
with honesty
But honesty was too harsh
She thought I was not on her side
She miscalculated again
A hair-trigger defense mechanism
I felt her hurt
But I despised it
Because all about her was false
except for the self loathing....that was honest
and honest too was this:
Her act of caring
but her inability to care for anyone
But herself
In parting I felt her private hell
I cared deeply
but it did no good in the end
and the futility of it was something I was not prepared for
She was not the one for me
and that rendered me meaningless and useless
But I loved her anyway
And that's the part that hurt
That she had no idea that it meant anything
She walled herself off in a little room
and closed the cover on herself
locked in a sad story
that nobody is allowed to know of
but the page that was me
was thrown into the fire
as if I never existed
I was trying to let her know
The stories always end the same
The End!
poem
by
James T. Adair
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