I would sacrifice the heroics for a spot of tea
that might be the solution to understanding we
cannot control the world around us,
throw me clearly under the bus.
I forgot there would be a time understood,
that passion, that whirlwind nature could
suddenly be fraught in the eye of the storm
when only ordinary seemed far from the norm.
It was then I should have known we were cursed
that spoken word, when wept eyes immersed
in the agony of love, the trials far above,
my world your world ours fit like a glove
And yet we were wrong, you said the word,
I fell back crying because it seemed absurd
two people in love are suddenly torn apart
Society is where hate is a sublime form of art.
© Scott F Savage 8/2021
apersonaljourney - stories of love 
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