Against Yourself

There is no meaning left to any of it.
When all that you have worked for,
is eaten away, slowly, from the inside;
and all that you truly need lies forever
just out of your very human reach.

You call it love, but then you settle
for things that are so much less than love.
Accouterments of supposed success -
that may bring an occasional thrill,
but never the fulfillment of an
ever-loving heart.

There is no meaning left to any of it.
Children grow up and become like clones,
even as they leave you far behind. Did
it really matter that you brought yet
one more of your mixed-up kind into
the world and taught them to be
just as you had been? If you never
did find love itself, at all.

The day is done, yet life goes on
into forever; even as you stand aside,
alone in the detachment that you
learned to use so well
against yourself...

? Michaelette ?

11/23/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...