Hypothesis of My Life
Paradigms of my loves are a mystery.
They set me apart from any other one.
Within any of mine there was no misery.
They were all riddled with such fun.
Though destined to failure, when begun,
They say three times is a charm in history.
Though it took me four, three were done.
There was never any force, just mental injury.
Three were shaded, I thought love was won.
Blessed with so much guilt, bound by a ton,
Building love upon a lie makes it die intensely.
One or the other will begin life’s bitter shun.
Destroying the sanctity of emotions inwardly,
Ripping apart all living truths, as with a gun,
Deceit also prepares the end of race to be run.
Date written
12/15/2011
Written for
Sponsor Francine Roberts
Contest Name English Quintain contest
|