You can survive
Endure
The abuse
Until I promise to stop.
You can live with the pain
In time count it mundane
Until I promise to stop.
You can take
The metaphorical punches
Write off my offensive defensives
Until I promise to stop.
But That is just too much
The dried grass
That broke
The dromedary's spine,
If you know what to expect
You can accommodate
My myriads of faults
But,
If I stop
Where are you?
And I know it is your demon ghost haunting you
With the bed-sheet of deferral
That makes your heart vomit
With hope
Comes possibility of disappointment
And that
Is too much
Worse than the abuse itself
Hope is the cruellest thing.
M Joseph Burt (18.06.2006)
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