the sweeter the sting;
tales of regret
spun around
countrypolitan arrangements
call to me
as sirens
cutting through the AM static.
Why I am helpless
to I follow them
in bittersweet masochism
though their poignant goodbyes
and scenes of
unrequited splendor?
As I watch my sleeping angel
the answer
comes to me:
once she and I lived in
one of those songs
until the day
I dared to leave
my self-imposed prison
and join my life
to hers.
As the songs play
I hear lessons learned
a little too late
and smile
that
for at least
once in my life
I got it right.
[Go post at http://dversepoets.com/ - say hi to Anthony Desmond and buy him a drink!]