Why I Don't Write Poetry 2014-1

Love descended on her,
Not expected.
Making her life a blur.

Would it last a season?
Or last a lifetime?
No time to think, to reason.

I watch with eyes fully open
As this Love unfolded
Between the two chosen ones.

But Love is cruel,
Vicious, unkind.
Making someone always play the fool.

The wind came one day of gray,
And with the leaves,
Whisked her Love away.

He left for a world of sand,
Sent to defend a people,
A selfish land.

The letter said he was very brave,
Protected his men, his life,
Until the very last wave.

Now she holds a metal of gold,
Something to be proud of,
That's what she's told.

But a metal of gold,
Won't hold you tight,
Or shield you from the cold.

But she'll go on.
And she will fight her own crusades.
Another casualty of a battle won.