Backlash

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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