This is the first in the series of three breakup poems…nothing morbid, just pure resentment and grief!

We spin in turmoil’s decadence,
a dance of sickly sorrow.
We weep in grief’s sweet penitence,
for there is no tomorrow.

Like dervishes of light we are,
contusions of delight
Though we may exude happiness,
fueled we are by fright!

For all the lovers in our past,
and sins we have not paid.
Eternity was made to last
and memories never fade.

A morbid stage-work done again,
over and over played.
Keep the scars of your old pain,
this time a different shade.

We never learn from our mistakes,
we live with the same fears:
then when our little hearts do break
we cry no different tears.