LadyEllen
Posts: 10931
Joined: 6/30/2006
From: Stourport-England
Status: offline
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Its a poem wot I wrot tonight! - the fifth anniversary of when one life ended and another began. Its a bit sentimental; there - you have been warned LOL! If anyone wants to comment on it thats OK, but its really out there 'cause I need to share it. Second warning - its not a rhyming poem; well, it rhymes in places, but its one of those rhythmic ones. After all, anyone can rhyme, I do it all the time, but rhythm helps the line, to show whats on my mind.....
Thanks
E
Its now been five years,
Since last I enjoyed, a romantic relationship.
With the love and the sex, and the all that goes with it;
Five years today, my first and my only,
Ended.
Together from school, two decades in all,
Two children born, the ups and the downs of our life ridden through,
No longer the passion with which it had flamed,
But is any marriage that way for so long?
A love that was normal, mature, and the envy,
Of all those around who could see what we had.
Then, along came this woman,
Who ruined it all.
Like deep unknown waters,
Held back by a dam that was suddenly breached,
Crashing she came, into and round us,
Carried away us, the one from the other.
A wave of destruction that raged through our marriage till,
Wreckage remained, no way to rebuild.
Her name was Ellen, and Ellen is me,
Or at least I became her, as he slipped away.
The “other woman”;
It’s an odd form of cheating, when she is the husband,
And she kills him slowly, in plain sight of his wife.
There is betrayal, without true adultery,
There is deep grieving, without any funeral,
There is harsh anger, without a clear target for all of the hate.
The pain is renewed at every meeting,
Of love and of happiness replaced by acceptance and awkward acquaintance,
Of hopes and of memories forever undead,
Of his phantom caught now and then, in a look or a gesture,
Yet lost in an instant to the her he now is.
And five years on, as if I don’t every day,
I look back and ponder, look forward and wonder.
Was all this needful? What if, and if only?
But that’s just because of the thing that I lost.
A great and a marvellous thing to be sure,
And an absence to mourn for the rest of my life.
Yet my name is Ellen,
It fits me and is me and was me and will be.
Ellen has done things, achieved things that he,
Never could, never would.
She is the one who lay hidden within me, the one I now am and in all that I do;
Confident, friendly, successful and strong,
Compassionate, sociable, no longer wrong.
No longer hidden, away from the world.
A wonder, beyond any word to describe,
To be and be seen as the person I am.
And yet, I am lacking.
The one last thing that I need is unreached,
That love that he had and she lost when he died.
Not that I could have kept it, and become Ellen too,
Not that he the pretence really lived, to have earned it.
He the creation, a stranger who was, and yet ever was not,
A façade built with diligence, convincing to everyone
Even himself, and of course, she who loved him
In a tragedy written of some other’s life
How then to find love?
True I get interest.
Plenty of emales arrive every week, but few that inspire,
And those that do, though she is all that they seek,
Are quickly discouraged by mention of him,
The remnants abiding of somebody else.
And then there’s those remnants, which yearn to read femails,
But she is not he that the femails seek out.
So here five years on, as I do every day,
I sit and I ponder, what was, is, will be;
To be who I am, means a lifetime of loneliness,
To be what I was might bring love, but the loss,
Of all that I am, of this wonderful person,
Is not worth the prize, and is nothing as offer,
In return for the love the illusion might yield.
Then what shall I do but to sit here and wonder?
At all of the loneliness out in the world,
At all of the people living a poem,
Like this one, filled out with hurt and with hope,
And pray to the heavens that sometime and someplace,
Some lonely someone might find what they seek.
E 2007
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In a test against the leading brand, 9 out of 10 participants couldnt tell the difference. Dumbasses.
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