Why lovers become poets

I picked up my pen. Ink to page.
It started as a love letter
A hope for reconsiliation
That things could be better.

Then I started to explain
That it was not entirely my fault
Words became strained
The writing became taut.

A love letter became a rant
An index of complaint and hurt
What started in love
Ended sadly blunt and curt.

The rant then ran to anger
Love became hurt and rage
It ended in a poem written
On a different page.

(Just to clarify I am happily married to a woman I love dearly. ☺)

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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