Maybe I should have been more in tune
With her sea of emotion
racing to shore.
Always obsessed with the
raving and craving
Attention, I often neglected her
needs.
Pity the soul who is blind to
the passion
Of everyday Odyssey born on
the wind.
The caring and giving is lost
in the shadows,
And naked compassion is
measured in deeds.
There comes a time when the
piper needs paying.
It usually comes at the end of
the dance
When it's too late to take
back the words
That were spoken in anger
like hurricane winds.
The backlash has torn every
stitch of her fiber,
Ripped at the seams and
carried away
All the essence of caring
leaving a void. Filled
With rock-hard emotion of
hearts on the mend.
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