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Just a poem about the price of trading home for adventure and fortune. |
Irreplaceable So I spoke to you of romance, A world of silly things— Dainties, ladies, all in white Pale wine and yellow rings, And of how it all meant nothing— The bitterest of words. I laughed away the tension, but I knew that you had heard. It wasn’t long before the wind Called my hot blood to roam. You watched me, grieved, but unsurprised As I abandoned home. I went to seek my fortune, as Cliché as all that sounds. I imagined the way Clearer on unfamiliar ground. Days and weeks and decades—the green Ages of the world…they Passed as if in seconds, and left Rot instead of pearl. And if in the end I found it, Through all that I had spent I stared around and realized I’d Forgotten what it meant. A letter came without a name; You’d married in the spring. The yellow band upon your hand Was someone else’s ring. I knew that I’d lost more than time When I betrayed your trust; With open eyes looked back to find My road had turned to dust. I found myself alone and cold Far from familiar shores With everything I had of home Long buried by the war. I realized that, while I stepped up, I knew why some had not— Those years of blood and sweat and fear Could peel an onion heart. And now without a compass—with No memory and no map; Just trophies, medals, rusting gold And hope to lead me back… I find I’d give all I have earned And scraped and struggled for If those cold honors could be burned To bring me home once more. 2007 |