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C'est La Vie



I was prepared for love long before it attacked.
But not sufficiently:  I fell, was felled.
Better to be destroyed by love, surely, than by death.
Death will extinguish me, yes,
but as a match, not as a volcano.
I will go more quietly than I ever thought possible,
ready to separate from this ever-present blight.
Nothing is as I expected it to be.
Nothing is true.  No one is free.
Take back, take back what I have borrowed:
I have enjoyed it, but it has done me little good.
Nothing was as it seemed.  As I dreamed.
I welcomed love, and love laughed.
I have tried, and mostly failed, to laugh back.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.