Just Like An Old Story

He called her by many names,
He was tired of playing her games.
Constantly connected with old flames,
Never feeling the sore of old shames.

He wanted to understand the different connections she couldn’t shed
But the more he tried the more he bled.
The thought of her, sharing joy with another was too much to bear,
With tears made of blood, he said “It is not fair”

“Don’t run away” her silence said,
While she looked away enjoying the embrace of their bed.
As he walked away, his mind played the same recording “why should I care?”
The floor came undone and there was nothing left but an old corpse.

“She passed me by and she did not have any empathy,
Why would I have any sympathy?
Her spirit was already deformed from infancy,
Why do I get surprised by her infamy?”

Those were his final words as he disappeared into the darkness of the night,
Just like an old story, unwilling to be written by a new site.

Copyright © 2017 Manuel Osornio-emotionsoflife2016

Image source https://www.pexels.com/

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4 thoughts on “Just Like An Old Story”

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