Old Friend

A familiar tale.

I met an old friend

in the here and now.

He smiled sweetly once 

then turned back around.

And as he grew smaller 

'gainst the setting sun,

I realized then

that he thought he had won.

He'd left my wreck'd heart

strung up in the trees

and my love in my throat

just as neat as you please.

A blind eye was turned

as I shed all my tears

for that deficit heart

so long in arrears.

For a smile and a laugh

that I felt I had lost,

but the price on the tag 

was worth more than the cost.

I carried the weight 

of his deed on my chest

until fortune conceded

that I had been blessed.

And once I let go

I could see the whole picture:

Someone has to lose

while the other's named victor.

But I left there with more

than I had when I'd entered,

and to dwell on the past

is ultimately self-centered.

Feeding one's sorrow

with fruits of the mind

leaves beating hearts cold

and seeing eyes blind.

Yes, the wool was pulled over

but the sheep has been shorn.

I arise from my ashes,

a phoenix reborn.

The End

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