I have given up on my heart <br />that device has been left <br />to its own devices. <br /> <br />What good did it ever do me? . <br />It simply lead me down dead ends <br />and left me whimpering in the dark. <br /> <br />It helped to pump my head <br />full of romantic nonsense <br />and idealistic twaddle. <br /> <br />Consequently I was isolated by ideas, <br />made weird by soap box <br />tub thumpery. <br /> <br />Cut off from the hedonistic throng, <br />I turned my anger on myself, <br />setting up a poison aura. <br /> <br />I mean all levels of desertion here, <br />emotional and physical.The former will <br />be easy, given my masculinity. <br /> <br />The latter will be tougher, <br />surrounded as I am by the rampant <br />exercise culture. <br /> <br />But I would rather let it run to ruin <br />than allow the 'Big C' time <br />to consume alive me from the inside. <br /> <br />When I would crumble like an empty husk, <br />choking on the memoried dust, <br />with one last tap from hurtful life.<br /><br />Neil Crawford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/false-friend-abandoned/
