I'm a puppet in your shadow play,
A failure in terms of living.
Many men,
Hang on to your love,
As if false heart is worth giving.
I failed to heed all warnings,
Of your commitment lost in time.
Loveless endeavours,
Have left you sour and cold,
Each one a heartfelt crime.
My feelings of lust and denial,
Seem to melt into my tongue.
The summer breeze,
Runs cold on heat,
Like my blood when I was young.
Detailed etchings on the wall of my mind,
Speak of countless living hells.
Slideshow presentations,
Of girls that I have loved,
Viewed only by dead brain cells.
Now a man addled with fear,
Searching for some modern truth.
Is there any such thing,
As an honest heart?
Maybe one day i'll see proof.
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...The summer breeze /Runs cold on heat/Like my blood when I was young...These lines are rich with portent, heavy with life lived...a place any poet will want to travel. Too many wondrous images to list, lines as magic these ~~~~~Lady A~~~~~~~