Roses and Violets: The Untold Tale

Roses and Violets: The Untold Tale

 

If roses are, sometimes, red,

And violets are, rarely, blue,

Then what does that say about you?

After so many years hunting

for that personal fairy tale,

I’d all but given up on catching my white whale.

As Ahab went mad combing the angry seas,

So did I grow angry exploring this mad world.

 

Too many battles lost and too few won.

Lost opportunities and wrong dreams chased.

We look for what we’re taught to,

But I’ve had poor teachers.

 

So I stopped looking for the fear of never finding.

Days became the next

With repetition, jokes and numbing distractions.

It’s a funny thing how a little psychic novocaine

Can comfort the mental pains,

But keep you from any real joys.

 

And that’s when I saw you.

Eye’s that went into and through me.

A smile that weaken and disarmed me.

The wild mane of hair like smoldering fire.

I couldn’t keep away, even if I’d tried,

The moths in my belly drawn to your flame.

 

The apathy I’d grown to love

Melted off and left me raw,

Without armor.

Feeling lighter and heavier at the same time.

I was scared, and exited.

Nervous and confident.

Happy but waiting for the other foot to drop.

 

Time will tell if I’m better off without my beloved armor.

I can all but guarantee the eventual hurt,

But you can’t have a moment of real joy

Without the risk of losing it.

Even if the house always wins

We still come back for another hand.