Out of the blue he came like a song that you can’t stop singing, though it’s been so long.

He loved you, he hurt you, he ran out to hide,

but not before he planted deep inside,

a seed that we all know will never bloom,

but it’s roots will tangle and leave little room.

It billows, it scratches, it sizzles and burns.

It conquers your heart as the seasons turn.

You cannot love another, who could ever compare?

His seed’s left you empty, naked and bare.

You’re hollow, you’re broken, wide awake and alone.

Your passion is gone, your song monotone…

Copyright, 2009, Kathleen Burgoon, Los Angeles, California. All Rights Reserved.

Written September 9, 2009